


My Mom and My Dad

by melicitysmoak



Series: Olicity Family Series [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Felicity Smoak's daughter, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, OQ not a vigilante, Oliver Queen's son - Freeform, Past/Regrets, Romance/Drama - Freeform, Single Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 75,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melicitysmoak/pseuds/melicitysmoak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak is a simple yet smart IT specialist raising a three-year-old daughter as a single mom. An incident one afternoon at the park leads to a friendship with wealthy CEO Oliver Queen whose wife had died, leaving him to raise their eight-year-old son. What would it take for them to move on from their painful pasts and take their relationship to the next level? Let their kids, Emily and Stephen, tell the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Emily and Stephen: an Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This Arrow/Olicity AU is told from the point of view of Emily Smoak and Stephen Queen. In this first part, the introduction is written in script form because it is a dialogue between the two kids. 
> 
> I first published this multi-chapter story in two other sites. Readers have given encouraging reviews and comments, and someone suggested I post the story here as well. I hope readers here enjoy it, too! Reviews and comments are welcome are highly appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or its characters. They belong to DC and the CW.

EMILY: Hi! My name is Emily. Emily Smoak. And this is the story of my mom, Felicity…

STEPHEN: …and my dad, Oliver. Oliver Queen. I'm Stephen. I'm eleven years old now, but the story we want to tell began three years ago when I was eight and Emily was three.

EMILY: But first things first. I want you to imagine a beautiful lady with bright blue eyes and a winsome smile. She has nice, long, wavy blonde hair that curled at the bottom. Every day her hair is up in a ponytail, and it's kind of cute watching it bounce when she walks around or turns. Wanna know what's another cute thing about her? Her fingernails! Every week it's a different color, but always cool and flashy. (When she's not looking, I paint my nails just like she does.) She doesn't have to wear lots of make-up, because she's already pretty, especially in pink. Pink lipstick, pink blushers, pink blouse, pink skirt… and pink underw-. Oh, never mind!

What's important for you to know is that she's my mother. And she's the kindest, sweetest, bestest mother in the whole wide world! She hardly gets mad at me, even if she's tired and stressed out all the time. I think there's nothing on earth she wouldn't do just to make sure I'm safe… and happy. I love my mommy very much!

STEPHEN: And don't forget, Emily! She's really smart, too.

EMILY: Oh, she's not smart… She's a genius! Mom knows her way around computers like it's the back of her hand. When she was in college, hacking into federal sites was a hobby. But now she knows better. She wouldn't do anything like that. (She's practically an angel with an invisible halo!) The best thing about this thing with my mom and technology is that I get to play and tinker with different kinds of gadgets all the time. I don't worry about breaking them or accidentally having them blow up in my face, coz mom can fix them in a jiffy!

STEPHEN: You must be very proud of her, Ems.

EMILY: Yes, I am! Why wouldn't I be? Felicity Smoak graduated from MIT at the top the class of 2009. (Don't even know where that is, let alone what it stands for. All I know is that a lot of the techie geeks who make lots of money came from there. Hmm… I wonder why we're not rich?)

STEPHEN: Well, enough about your mom. My dad may not be a genius like her, but he sure is tall, charming, and handsome. He has dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and he has stubble on his face now. He's strong and brawny and could lift me with his legs a hundred times each morning, no sweat! (When I grow up, I'm going to have nicely toned six-pack abs just like him.) Girls flock around him all the time, even after finding out that he had Mom and has me.

Had Mom. Now that's the twist. Dad used to be a lot of fun when Mom was still around. Not that he'd become 100% broody, but he smiled and laughed more back then. Somehow he'd lost the sparkle in his eyes, like I had. It all started when Mom got sick and he had to be with her in the hospital all the time. After Mom…uhm…after Mom… passed… things were different, I mean… difficult. When he wasn't spending time with me playing ball or watching some TV at home, he was always at the office… working (or at the gym, working out.) He's a CEO, you know. Queen Consolidated. A lot of people work for him, and he has a lot of responsibilities, a lot of important decisions to make, so he tells me. That keeps him busy, too busy to feel sad and lonely.

EMILY: That's too bad. I can't quite picture your dad all sad and lonely. He's always chuckling now and cracks corny jokes all the time! Does he still think about your mother?

STEPHEN: Of course. He still remembers her every now and then, but he doesn't get all depressed about it anymore like he used to. He said he'll never ever forget her. He says that in many ways, I remind him of her. I miss my mom, too, sometimes. But, hey, Emily, how come you never talked much about your father?

EMILY: My father? Hmm… I didn't know much about him then, so there was really nothing to talk about. Mom had hardly ever talked about him, and I had never really asked. We were happy, just the two of us. And she had said she doesn't miss him at all, not a tiny bit. The only things she did tell me about him were, one, that he never married her; two, that he lives far away from here and never bothers to even call; and three, that he's filthy rich!

STEPHEN: So… is there anything else we should say about your mom and my dad before we start the story?

EMILY: Let's just get on with it. Readers can figure out the rest of the details as the story unfolds. Ready?

STEPHEN: Ready.


	2. An Afternoon at the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's how Oliver and Felicity meet.

Stephen:

Dad and I were shooting some hoops at the park that Friday afternoon. I appreciated him leaving work earlier than usual so he could spend time with me. The sun was still up, but not too bright and hot to keep us from the hard court. It was either basketball or baseball for us, but since the other guys we usually play ball with weren't available today, we settled for a one-on-one game of basketball. Obviously, I was no match for my dad. He was way taller and bigger than me. But he was so nice about it, letting me score some shots by lifting me up in the air just right so I could drop the ball into the ring. Everything was going smoothly, and we were just beginning to sweat.

Then the accident happened. Dad was going to sink a strong shot into the hoop when I cheated. I teased him and touched his tickle spot. He missed! The ball hit, not the ring, but the side of the board, and it bounced off… way off… Thug!

Emily:

"Whaah!" I screamed. I didn't know what hit me, but I could see stars in front of my eyes. "Moooooom!" I screamed again. "Where is she?" I needed my mommy. Tears were flowing down my cheeks and I started rubbing my eyes to make the stars disappear.

Stephen:

"Oops," I muttered. "Dad?" I looked at my dad, not sure what we were supposed to do. That little girl was crying her lungs out and screaming for her mother. We were in big trouble.

Just as my dad started walking towards the little blonde girl in a red shirt and red-and-white polka dots leggings, I saw a blonde lady with dark-rimmed glasses and a ponytail dart across the grassy play area from the nearest park bench towards the crying child. "She must be her mother," I thought to myself.

"Stay here, Stephen," my dad told me. "Let me handle this."

When my dad saw the woman running towards the little girl, his steps became brisk. I could see him rubbing his thumbs across the knuckles of his fists. He always does that when he's upset…or tense… as tense as he was right there.

Emily:

"What happened, Emily, sweetheart?! What's wrong?" my mom asked. She knelt down on the grass and held my shoulders firmly with her two hands. Her voice was all shaky. She was so worried I thought she herself was going to cry.

"I'm so sorry, miss. It's my fault. My son and I were playing basketball over there, and our ball bounced off. It accidentally hit her on the head," said the stranger who was now standing behind me. My mom didn't look up. She was too focused on checking me out. She messed up my hair trying to feel through my blonde curls whether or not I had a bump growing on my head.

But I looked up over my shoulder. The tall stranger didn't look mean and scary. In fact, he was smiling a bit, trying to make me and my mom feel better.

"I didn't mean to hit her with the ball. It was an accident," the tall man continued to explain. "I hope she's not hurt real bad?" he asked with a worried tone. My mom still didn't look up, didn't answer. She just held me in her embrace, rubbing one hand up and down on my back and massaging my head with the other to comfort me.

Stephen:

I could see my dad trying to explain that it was an accident and that he didn't mean for the ball to have bounced off and landed hard on the girl's head. But the pink shirted lady didn't seem to be listening to him. She did not even look up to see who was talking to her. I walked closer to listen in on the one-way conversation.

"We can take her to the hospital, if you'd like, so the doctors can check her out," I heard my dad offer. "Don't worry about the bill. I'll take care of everything," he added.

By then, the little girl had stopped crying, and her mother was wiping the tears on her face with the long sleeves of her pink shirt. She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead. After that, she finally looked up and saw my dad standing behind her daughter. My dad offered his hand to lift her up to her feet, and she took it.

"Thank you, but that's not necessary. Emily's going to be fine. She just needs to calm down. I don't think there's a bump on her head anyway."

I thought the woman was going to lash out at my dad for what happened, just like other mothers I've seen when their little girls or boys get hurt. Nope. This woman said all that with a breath-taking smile. She wasn't angry at all. She was calmer than I had expected.

I looked at my dad. He stood frozen where he was standing. His eyes were glued to her eyes, beaming. I hadn't seen that look on his face before. He couldn't say a word. And he was still holding her hand.

Emily:

I heard my mom speak again. "Uhm, thank you for saying you're sorry. You can let go of my hand now." I tapped on the man's big hand that held my mom's smaller hand. It was warm. The man suddenly noticed me tapping on his hand, so he let go.

"Uh… I'm sorry. I… I forgot my… my manners," the man began to speak, two words at a time. "My name is Oliver Queen. And your's is?"

"I'm Emily," I answered. I thought he was asking me.

My mom chuckled and grinned. "This is my Emily, my daughter, and I'm Felicity. Felicity Smoak. Nice to meet you. Even under such 'accidental' circumstances. I never thought I'd meet you in person, though. I've always only read about you or saw you on the news."

Stephen:

My dad had the warmest smile on his face. Something was going on. I could see his eyes searching for her hand as she introduced herself, so I followed his line of sight. No ring. Dad's smile widened.

I heard him apologize one more time, asking if she was sure she didn't want her daughter checked by doctors. The kind-hearted woman assured him that the little girl would be okay. I walked over to where they were and picked up the ball that caused the fuss. I remember thinking, "There goes our game. Too bad, I was winning."

My dad and I walked mother and daughter to the park bench where their stuff was. I thought she was really nice, polite, cheerful, and quite… chatty.

"I don't see you here often, Mr. Queen. Emily and I are here almost every afternoon to relax. She loves the playground. I like watching her play in the sandbox. I get to do some reading on my own. See this spot here? This is my park bench. I'm planning to have my name etched right here," she said, pointing to one of the wooden slats on the bench.

"We don't come here every day. Stephen likes to play ball, and there isn't a court near where we live, so once in a while I bring him here after work and spend time with him," Dad replied.

"That's nice. Not too many CEO dads do that for their kids. I wonder where the press people are? Don't they always follow you around? They're missing this big scoop." Then she gasped in embarrassment. "Not that you're just pretending to enjoy spending time with your son. That's not what I meant. I mean… They keep covering stories about you and your family and your company, and they only show that side of you that's serious and boring and-" She stopped. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

My dad laughed so hard my eyes almost bulged out in surprise. He hadn't laughed like that in a loooong time.

"You're funny," he told her.

"So I've been told." She bit her lip and tilted her head in a really cute way. "Mr. Queen, what I meant was that people ought to see this side of you that I've just seen. On TV you're the go-getting business tycoon and take-over kind of guy. Out here, you're just a father having a good time with his son… and… a gentleman who knows how to say you're sorry to ordinary people like me and my Emily."

"Call me Oliver," Dad said. "And please, I think you're a pretty extraordinary person. I was expecting you to freak out and sue me for what happened to your girl. Thank you for being so calm about this whole thing."

"You're welcome." She nodded her head once and offered a handshake, which my dad eagerly took.

Emily:

My head still felt a little sore, so I couldn't really put on my usually happy-face face. But my mom looked really happy. She picked me up and carried me up on her right hip, and then slung the strap of our big Disney characters bag on her left shoulder. We were ready to leave.

"I can get that for you," Oliver said, offering to carry our heavy bag.

"Oh, it's fine. I'm used to carrying this much weight. Everything's in here, you know. Extra clothes, towels, diapers – just in case, snacks, drinks, gadgets, little books, first aid kit. You don't know just what you'll need, so it's always better to be ready. This is my daily workout."

"Then let us please walk you over to your car," he offered again.

"Oh, we didn't bring the car. We walk to and from the park. We live close by."

"Which is… where?" he asked my mom. Mommy didn't answer. She just looked at him with a puzzled face.

She took so long to answer. I thought she'd forgotten the address that she had, time and again, taught me to memorize. So I answered for her, as clearly as I could: "4C Garden Grove Apartments. Ford Street."

Mom bit her lip again as she smiled and looked away from Oliver's gaze. "That's my girl," she remarked. I saw she was a bit uncomfortable, but I didn't understand why. "Was it something I said?" I thought to myself.

"Well, thank you for the information, little miss Emily," Oliver said to me. "Someday you would make a wonderful executive assistant. Would you like to come work for me when you grow up?"

"Sure!" I replied. "I want 'real' work."

"Real work?" Oliver asked.

Mommy laughed. "Emily doesn't think I really work coz I'm just at home. She wonders why I don't go to an office like other parents."

Stephen:

"I see," said Oliver. "And what do you do?" My dad was definitely going somewhere here. I paid close attention to what would happen next.

"I'm a freelance IT specialist. Right now I just do odd jobs. I can't go get a regular job coz of Emily. She's too young, and I can't afford a sitter yet. I earn just enough to get by. We're okay."

"No grandparents, aunts or uncles, cousins to watch her if you do have to be somewhere else?" he quizzed her.

"I wish!" Felicity exclaimed. She went on to explain, "We don't have family here. I grew up in Vegas. We moved here when Emily was a year and a half…"

I noticed her voice toning and slowing down as she recalled the past. She wasn't willing to say anything more. My dad noticed it, too, so he sort of changed the topic.

"Well, here's my card," Dad said, pulling out a business card from his wallet. "If you're interested, I can hire you to-"

"I can't," she interrupted.

"You don't have to come to the office for work. I've been getting some feedback from the head of our IT department. Since our mergers with two smaller companies last month, they've had to deal with a lot of stuff, and they're undermanned as it is. You think you could give us a hand? And you can do the work at home. With Emily. I can arrange that."

Felicity's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly. She couldn't believe it. Dad was actually offering her a job.

"Wow..." she spoke without a sound. Her lips formed a huge O though. "How could anyone have known how an afternoon at the park would turn out this way?!" Perhaps she thought she had said that in her head, but yeah, we all heard it.

"So, do we have a deal?" Dad asked again.

"Deal. When do I start?"

"Soon as you give me your number."

Felicity opened her mouth to speak but ended up sucking in air instead. She raised an eyebrow and said, "I don't wanna read too much into what you just said, Mr. Queen. But are you hitting on me?" She pretended to tease, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was suspicious of my dad's intentions for asking for her number.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I began to scratch a fake itch behind my ear. "She's on to you, Dad," I teased him with the look on my face. Felicity was smarter than I thought. But my dad was smarter.

"I don't do that anymore," Dad answered. "But, I do need your number so that Steve Garber from the IT department can get in touch with you tomorrow."

"Oh..." I actually saw her swallow her pride. Big time. I watched her unconditional surrender. "I'm. So. Sorry. About that... My brain comes up with the weirdest ways to say what I do not want to say out loud," she apologized in total humiliation.

My dad just smiled at her and said, "Forgiven. I guess now we're even."

Dad saved her number into his phone as she recited it, this time with a less confident tone.

I smirked and put my hands inside my pockets, tapping my feet. I was waiting for when this over-extended conversation would end. Dad clearly liked this woman. I could see it in his eyes, and I was happy for him. The memory of my mother ran across my mind. I smiled as I imagined her giving a two-thumbs up: "It's okay, Stephen. It's about time your dad moved on."

If mom didn't mind, I didn't mind. I liked Felicity, too.

We said our goodbyes at last. Dad and I watched the two adorable blondes turn and walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you follow and stick with the story. After chapter three, I'll be posting updates every three or four days.


	3. The Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver decides to act, and eventually, Felicity does react.

Emily:

Two Friday afternoons had passed after my "accident" that led to Mom's new job working for Oliver Queen. Mom and I ran into him and his son Stephen three times. Coincidence? Guess not. Those guys were ready for us. The first time, they were back at the basketball court near the playground where we usually spent the afternoons.

"Hello!" Oliver called out, waving his hand at my mom.

"Haaeee!" I hollered back for my mom, who just smiled and waved back at him.

When I got tired of playing and Mom decided we would head back home early so I could rest, we packed away. Mom carried our bag and walked with my hand in hers towards the guys, and said, "We're heading home now. I'd like to thank you again, Mr. Queen, for… you know… my new job."

"You're welcome, Ms. Smoak."

"Oh, just call me Felicity."

"Okay, if you promise to call me Oliver instead of Mr. Queen."

"But you're my boss."

"In the office, maybe. Out here, it's just Oliver," he said with a warm smile.

"All right, then, Oliver it is," Mom agreed.

The second time, the guys brought chicken sandwiches and orange juice, for us four. Stephen helped his dad spread out a picnic blanket with red and white squares – like those you see on TV. My mom was quiet the entire time. She had a smile on her lips, but her eyes… her eyes didn't seem happy. And if I hadn't known better, I'd say she was trying to avoid Oliver's glances. I wondered why. The soft "thank you for a wonderful picnic" was all I heard her say to them when the afternoon was over.

Stephen:

After that second encounter, Dad and I packed away the picnic stuff as Felicity and Emily left. Felicity had been quiet during the picnic, and my dad had been the one telling stories and fooling around with Emily and me. I could tell he was trying to keep things light, but yeah, in between stories and sandwiches, I couldn't count the number of times he had glanced her way. As we walked back to the car in the parking lot, I noticed Dad had been totally silent. Not a word. I decided to break the ice.

"What's up, Dad? You've been awfully quiet."

"Huh? Did you say something?"

"I asked you if everything's okay. You haven't said a word since the girls left."

"Oh. Everything's fine. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Liar. As far back as I could remember, I could tell when my dad wasn't telling the truth: When he and Mom had a fight, and he'd say everything's okay. When a business deal had gone wrong, and I'd overhear him tell Mom that everything's fine. When Mom started losing her hair coz of chemo, he had said, "We're gonna be fine." Every single time he'd hold back the truth, he had this look on his face.

That was the look right there. Eyes narrowed. Check. Crease between the eyebrows. Check. A faint smile as the corner of his lips twitched. Yup. Almost unnoticeable shrugging of shoulders. Definitely there.

"If you say so," I said. "I just thought that maybe you're a bit disappointed, that's all."

"What? Why would I be disappointed?"

"Well, you went through all the trouble making sandwiches and throwing a picnic, but she didn't say a thing. Except maybe the 'thank you' before they left."

"Who?"

"You know who. Felicity!"

"Stephen," my dad's facial expression began to change. The crease disappeared and the twitching of the corner of his lips stopped. "She's a very nice person, and-"

"Yeah, I know, Dad. And you like her. A lot. I'm not that naïve, you know," I teased.

"Naïve?"

"Second grade English, Dad. I pay attention to Mrs. Hopkins."

Dad chuckled before saying, "Alright, alright. You win, Stephen. I do like her. And yes, she was awfully quiet today."

"You think she wasn't happy about the picnic?"

"Don't know. Maybe she prefers tuna sandwiches?" he joked, chuckling again.

Dad had been chuckling and grinning more and more in the last two weeks. Sometimes I'd catch him humming in the bathroom, or staring in front of the mirror and then breaking out into a crazy smile. What really got me was today. He was in the kitchen. The kitchen! Making sandwiches! He hadn't done that before. Mom had always made the sandwiches, cooked the meals, and stuff. And when she was gone, either Lucia (Dad's nanny who hadn't stopped working for the Queen family until now) would do it, or we would order out. Felicity was good for my dad. That's why I just had to say something.

"I think you should go for it, Dad," I coaxed.

"You little rascal!" he broke out laughing. When he had recovered from breathlessness, he asked, "And how do you suppose I go about doing that? You saw how the picnic trick didn't quite cut it."

"You try too hard. Maybe it was a bit early for something like that. Maybe she wasn't ready yet. Maybe you're not ready yet." I sounded like a shrink doing therapy.

"How did you get so smart?" my dad remarked. "Tell you what… I'll take your advice, Dr. Stephen Queen. Perhaps it's better to take it slow."

"I'm with you there, Dad," I said as I punched him lightly on his right arm.

Emily:

So… the third time was when the Queens had decided to "take it slow." Little did they know that my Mom had regretted treating the guys as coldly as she had the second time. I remember her talking to herself (aloud) as we were walking home after the unexpected picnic at the park.

"Felicity Smoak! What has gotten into you? The man was being nice, and you didn't say a single word the whole time. What's wrong with you?!" I thought Mom was angry with me or something. I looked up at her and saw that she was annoyed. But not at me. She was annoyed at herself. (That's when I learned how that was possible.)

So I asked, "Mommy, what's the matter?"

"Huh? What did you say, sweetheart?"

"You're upset." Someone had to tell her.

"Oh, sweetie, Mommy's not upset. She's just… she's just…"

"You're upset," I insisted.

"Okay, okay. I am," she admitted.

"Why?" I asked.

"Coz I think I wasn't very polite to Mr. Queen today."

"Oh. Why?" I asked again.

"Coz he was trying to be nice, throwin' us a picnic and all, and I wasn't able to show him how grateful we were."

"Mmhmm… Why?"

"Huh? Well, maybe because I was a bit anxious."

"Anchus?"

"Anxious," she tried to correct me. "You know, nervous. Uneasy. Edgy."

"Oh. But why?"

I think I was better than young Dr. Stephen Queen at this therapy thing. I kept asking her why's, and she kept answering them quite frankly, not noticing that she was sorting through her thoughts and feelings. (Now that I'm older, I've learned that adults call that "processing." See how smart I've become!)

"Well, uhm… He makes me nervous," Mom admitted a second time. "He's not that scary and all, in fact, he's quite gorgeous and attractive. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous in front of "the Oliver Queen of Starling City"? Not that he affects me in a wonderful kind of way, or makes an afternoon at the park extra special. There's just something about him. Today, he was trying to be thoughtful and nice and… It's just that… Emily, baby, I don't think Mommy's ready."

"Ready? For what?"

"For… I don't know." Mom stopped talking the rest of the way. When we reached our apartment, she opened the door with the key. We stepped inside. She closed the door and leaned her back against it. And then said, "I'm not so sure what I'm not ready for, but here's what I'm sure of. Next time, I won't be such a… Never mind!" Oh, she wasn't talking to me.

Stephen:

And so, here's what happened the third time we were at the park. When Dad and I arrived, Felicity and Emily were already in their usual spot. Emily was playing in the sandbox. Her mom was sitting on her bench, doing something on her tablet. As we passed by the bench behind her, my dad greeted politely, "Good afternoon, Felicity."

Startled, she turned around, and recognizing my dad, she immediately greeted back, "Oh, hi! Good afternoon, Oliver."

I was surprised at her lively and cheerful tone of voice. And so was my dad. Felicity's winsome smile was back. She looked so pretty in her bright blue dress and light blue cardigan sweater. "Uh-oh," I thought to myself, "this is going to be interesting." I wondered how Dad was going to "take it slow" now.

My dad went around the bench, hands in his pockets, smile reaching to his eyes. "May I sit with you?"

"Certainly. But aren't you here to play ball with Stephen?" she asked.

"Oh, sure. I'll join him in a while." Dad gave me a look that I understood to mean, "You can go ahead and play by yourself." As I walked to the basketball court, I could still hear them talking.

"So how's work?" Dad asked.

"Never been better," Felicity replied. "But your systems? They need a lot of work. I mean, a lot! Some of the programs could go faster, you know. You could…"

Their voices faded out as I reached the half court. I practiced dribbling the ball for five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty. I was getting bored. "Dad knows I can't shoot the ball by myself. I need him to lift me up to sink some shots. Oh, brother!"

That's when I decided to stop playing ball alone. I walked to the sandbox where Emily was. She was humming the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme while playing. I thought she was so cute! It would be neat to have a little sister like her, just not 24 hours a day. I reached into my pocket for a chocolate bar.

"Hey, Emily! Want some Snickers?" I handed her a bar of Snickers.

"Yey! Thank you!" Emily said. "Play with me?"

"Well, all right. I'll play with you for a while. What do you have there?" I squatted to her level to see what she was doing. As I helped her build what looked like a sandcastle, Emily sat down and ate her chocolate bar. She was very happy that I was doing all the work now. And when she finished eating, she giggled and said, "Yey! Princess castle is done!"

We had been playing for a good thirty minutes – while my dad and her mom were still chatting pleasantly a few meters away – when I noticed that Emily wasn't humming, giggling, or talking anymore. In fact, I could see her tiny chest heaving. I crawled closer and held her face in my hands. Her eyes were all puffy and her lips were starting to swell. A few seconds more and I could hear the raspy sound of her breathing. She was gasping for air and her eyes were blinking fast. She couldn't even cry for help!

"Help! Help us!" I cried out.

In a flash, Dad and Felicity were in the sandbox, kneeling beside us. Felicity lifted Emily's chin to examine her face. "Oh no…" was all she could say.

"What's wrong?" my dad asked worriedly.

"It looks like she's having an allergy attack again. I don't understand. She didn't take anything all day that would do this. What could have caused this?! Oh my… Emily? Baby? Sweetheart, can you hear Mommy?!"

Felicity was obviously very worried, but she wasn't panicking. I admired her calmness and composure under pressure. She placed her ear over Emily's mouth to check her breathing, and then lowered her head to the girl's chest.

"It's an asthma attack, too. Emily, sweetie, hold on!" Felicity said, trying to keep herself calm. But she was about to break down. "We've got to get her to the hospital! She can't breathe! Oh, God, please! Emily, can you hear me! Hold on!"

"Give her to me," my dad gave a firm, decisive order.

Felicity let go of Emily. My dad scooped her up in his arms, stood up, and ran.

"Oliver! What are you doing?" Felicity shouted.

There was no time for an answer. Dad ran off, out of the park, as fast as he could, and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think happens next? Comments are welcome.  
> Until the next update...


	4. E.R.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver saves Emily's life. He and his son Stephen get to know Felicity even better.

Stephen:

Felicity and I made it to Starling City General's emergency room thirty minutes after Dad ran off carrying Emily in his arms. We were out of breath. She asked the triage nurse where Emily Smoak had been brought. The nurse showed us where to go. When Felicity found Emily unconscious, lying on a hospital bed with an I.V. line on her left arm and an oxygen mask on her face, the tears she had been holding back all this time fell. She took Emily's hand in hers and squeezed it, and then she lovingly kissed her daughter on the forehead, whispering "I love you, Ems" over and over again.

A lump began to form inside my throat, and tears began to pool in my eyes, too. I felt warmth take over my body. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. At first, I couldn't understand why a brave young man like me would cry over that sight. Even after three encounters, I still considered that I barely knew these people. But as I watched Felicity gently caressing her little girl's golden locks and whispering sweet words her ear, I realized I wasn't crying out of concern. I was crying because I was in pain. I missed having a mother. So much.

"Get a grip, Stephen," I scolded myself, "It's not like you don't have a father who loves you very much." Sure, I know my dad loves me more than anything in this world, but I had known a mother's love before, and it was definitely different.

Since Mom died, I taught myself how to be stronger. When I hurt myself riding my bike and scraped some part of my body, I'd tell myself not to cry. I'd run to the medicine cabinet and treat my wounds myself. Dad didn't need something as petty as that to worry about. When the bigger bullies in school made fun of me, I learned how to turn and walk away, and just bury the ache in the deepest parts of my little heart, because I knew that when school was over, I wouldn't have a mother who would listen to my shameful tale and hug me tight to make me feel better. When I was sick, Dad would always do his best to take care of me, but I really missed my mom's tender loving care. She used to hold me in her arms and sing to me until my fever went away. Dads don't do that.

When I had calmed down and my vision started to clear, I saw my dad walking towards me from down the hallway. "Hey," he greeted me, putting his arm around my shoulder. "When did you get here?"

"A couple of minutes ago or something," I answered. "We walked as fast as we could as soon as Felicity got your call."

"That's good. Tell you what… Why don't you go over to the waiting room down that hallway to the left while I go talk to Felicity. I'll just go check on them to see what the doctor says, and then I'll join you there," Dad instructed. I obeyed without question.

I sat in the waiting room with six or seven other people whose faces betrayed one or a combination of these emotions: concern, worry, fear, sadness, and grief. I understood exactly how each of them felt. I'd been there. And I hadn't understood entirely what was happening then because I was just five years old. All I knew was that losing my mom in this same hospital that very day felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. And then there was nothing there. Just emptiness. "Mom's gone, Stephen," I remembered my dad saying to me. I recalled the two of us hugging real tight. "I'm gonna miss Mom so much, Dad," I mumbled in between sobs.

Sitting in that room, without anyone to talk to, I thought of talking to my mom – to her memory, at least. "I miss you, Mom. A lot. I hope Emily makes it through okay. I don't want to see another person die. I just couldn't take it. All these people here… they're hurting. I thought I didn't hurt anymore, but I still do. I wish you were here."

After five or ten minutes, Dad and Felicity joined me in the waiting room. It was a good thing I had stopped crying by the time they sat down, taking the two vacant seats in front of me.

As soon as she had taken a seat, Felicity spoke. "I can't thank you enough for what you did for Emily," she said to my dad. "Dr. Fischer said another five or ten minutes longer and she might not have made it. You saved her life."

Dad just looked at her. On his face was a different kind of smile. It was not a smile of amusement or fondness. It was a caring, compassionate smile. And as she turned to face him, her face glowed. The terror that had previously taken over her face was replaced by an expression of peace. She didn't need him to say anything. It's like she knew that my dad had accepted her words of gratitude. And then, at that very moment when her eyes locked onto his, I saw it happen.

Dad lifted his right hand from where it had rested on his knee and reached for Felicity's left hand. Almost instinctively, she leaned her left shoulder on his arm and rested her head on his right shoulder. These gestures of a growing bond were done in complete silence, and it was like time stood still. After such a close call, they had found comfort in each other. I smiled. I had found comfort in my sadness, too, just by watching them together.

As Felicity finally straightened herself from leaning on my dad, she asked, "Where did you learn to run so fast?"

"Track team. In high school, and then in college. I wasn't the most intelligent student in business school, but the athletics program took me in and I stayed until the senior year. Didn't think it would save a life today," he explained.

"Well, I'm so glad it did!" she remarked.

Earlier at the park, when my dad realized that Emily's life was at stake, he had made a difficult yet wise choice. He knew it would take too much time to bring her to the car that was parked at the far south side of the park, drive around one block because of the one-way street, and pass three possibly red lights during Starling's rush hour. We would not have made it in time. So he decided to run, knowing that Starling General was only two blocks north from where we were. (I remember him teaching me basic geometry: "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.") So with Emily in his arms, he sprinted to the E.R. in less than seven minutes.

"That was really a close call," Dad said.

"Yeah. Dr. Fischer said her air passage was so swollen from the allergic reaction. I still find it strange though. I can't think of anything that might have caused it. I'm very careful not to give her anything she's allergic to," Felicity explained.

"What is she allergic to?" Dad asked.

"Oh, the usual things that kids with asthma are allergic to. You know… pollen, dust, certain preservatives, chocolates, nuts…"

My jaw dropped as I gasped, and my eyes widened so much I thought my eyeballs would pop out. "Uh-oh…" I spoke softly, fearfully.

"What's wrong, son?" Dad asked.

I started to shake in fear. "I… I'm… I'm so sorry!" I jumped off my seat and ran out of the waiting room. I couldn't believe it! Emily almost died because of what I did. She's on that hospital bed, unconscious, because of me. I felt so guilty I wished I had been the one who had almost died.

I ran past the hallway into the hospital lobby. I stopped near the hospital's main entrance where I spotted a narrow stairway. That was a perfect hiding place. I went up the landing between the first and second floors and sat on a step, burying my face in between two forearms that I placed on my lap. This time, I couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come, even though I felt terrible and terrified deep inside. My chest wanted to burst in anger and frustration. I shut my eyes tight and yelled to myself, "I hate you!"

A couple of minutes later, I sensed someone sit beside me. "Dad, I know what you're thinking," I started to say. But when I opened my eyes and turned to face my unwelcomed companion, I was surprised to see Felicity. There she was, in her calm and collected manner, smiling at me with love in her eyes. She put one arm around me and just sat there, rubbing her tender hand on my shoulder. I couldn't look at her. I hung my head and looked down at my feet in shame.

And then she spoke, "Hey, Stephen. Please don't think you're the one to blame for what happened to Emily. You didn't know. It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I gave her chocolate… with lots of nuts in it!"

"Yes, you did. But you didn't know it was bad for her." She paused for a while. "Listen." She tried her best to catch my gaze, and when she finally did, she spoke the kindest words that broke through the walls of guilt and shame I was starting to build around my heart. "No one blames you for what happened. Your dad doesn't blame you. I don't blame you, and I don't hate you. In fact, I appreciate you sharing your chocolate bar with Emily and playing with her in the sandbox. If there was anyone to blame for what happened, it was me. I was the adult responsible for her."

"You're not mad at me?" I asked in amazement.

"Not a teeny tiny bit," she answered with a beautiful smile on her face.

"That's good to know," I said. I don't know what came over me, but I found myself wrapping my arms around Felicity's waist. I buried my head on her chest and cried. She put her arms around me, too. It was a wonderful feeling, which somehow felt like being in my own mother's embrace. I didn't want to let go. Not just yet.

"Hey, you two." I heard my dad's voice. "Emily's awake."

Felicity and I let go of our embrace. She pulled a white laced handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped away my tears. "Come on," she said, stroking my hair, "let's go see how Emily's doing." We stood up and walked back to the E.R. with my dad.

Emily:

I opened my eyes and saw my mom standing near me on my right side, holding my hand. "Mommy," I whispered.

"Hey, sweetie," Mom said. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay," I answered, and then I asked, "Where's Stephen?"

Oliver answered, "He's right here." I looked to my left side and saw Oliver smiling down at me. But Stephen wasn't so happy. His eyes were so red. I could tell he'd just been crying, but I didn't know why. All I could think of was the last thing I remembered: the sandbox.

"Stephen, you think we can play in the sandbox again sometime?" I asked him.

Stephen's face broke out with a grin. "Well, sure," he replied, "as soon as you get better. And next time, no more Snickers for you." We all chuckled.

The doctor approached us and asked to speak with my mother. I heard him tell her that I needed to stay in the hospital at least overnight for observation. The medicines they gave me were just kicking in, so I still needed to rest under close watch. My mom nodded, and as the doctor left, a nurse gave her some papers to sign so that I could be transferred to a private room. She filled out the first form, but when she read the second one, I heard her say to the nurse, "Excuse me, but I'm afraid I have a bit of a problem here. It says here I have to have health insurance?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" the nurse asked.

My mom bit her lower lip and sighed. She had this troubled look in her eyes. She couldn't answer.

"That's all right," Oliver stepped in. "I'll take care of it." He took the form from my mom's hand, signed it, and gave it to the nurse. "So, that's settled. When can we move the girl to her room?"

The nurse said it would take about thirty minutes to an hour before they could transfer me to my room. As soon as the nurse left, I heard my mom say to Oliver, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. I wanted to," he said. Mom couldn't look at him. She was way too embarrassed.

So I said, "Thank you, Mr. Oliver." And then I gave him the best smile I could manage under the circumstances. Mom's embarrassment melted away.

"You're welcome, Emily. I'm just so glad you're feeling much better now," said Oliver.

Mom walked away from him towards me, and as she did, she looked back at Oliver, her blonde ponytailed hair swaying softly, and said, "So, first you give me a job. Now you pay my hospital bill. By now, Mr. Queen, I have become so indebted to you that I-"

"Is that a problem?" he interrupted. "Coz the way I see it, I'm the one who owes you and this pretty little angel. It was my ball that hit her head, and it was the chocolate bar that I bought that brought her to the E.R. These aren't favors, Felicity. I just had to…"

His words were cut short by the nurse who returned and announced, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer than an hour. Housekeeping is still tidying up the room that another patient has just vacated. You might want to grab some dinner in the meantime. Give the little girl some time to rest and sleep. We can't have too much people in here anyway."

My visitors agreed. And after Mom planted a kiss on my cheek and said, "See you later, Ems," they were led by the nurse out of the E.R. to the direction of the cafeteria.

Stephen:

As soon as we got to the cafeteria, Dad found us a nice, quiet spot near a corner. He asked Felicity and me what we wanted for dinner and then left to get them for us. He came back a few minutes later.

As he placed the food trays on the table and sat down, Felicity spoke. "Oliver, thank you. Really. I'm grateful for everything, and I'm sorry for being so proud to admit I needed help."

"It's okay," Dad said. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's just eat. After all the excitement, I'm sure both your stomachs are growling just as hard as mine is."

During our meal, Dad struck up a conversation with Felicity. "So, has Emily always had this allergy and asthma problem?"

"Oh yeah," Felicity replied. "I've gotten used to it, but today's attack was among the worst ones, if not the worst. She was barely a year old when her symptoms began. We were in and out of hospitals in Vegas. I practically became a mainstay at the E.R. Doctors diagnosed her asthma; it was one of those difficult cases, and was often triggered by her allergic reactions. For months, the pediatric specialist there couldn't figure out how to control her asthma and allergies, so she referred us to an allergologist and a pediatric pulmonologist here in Starling. That's the reason why I decided to move away from my family and come live here a year and a half ago."

"Sounds like you've had your hands full," my dad remarked.

"Mm-hmm," she replied. "It can be quite stressful. Some days when she gets a really bad attack, I can't do any work coz I have to monitor her 'round the clock. This is why I can't leave her in someone else's care. There's just no one else I could depend on here. Somewhere in between child care, laundry, groceries, kitchen duty, housekeeping, and more errands than you could name, I manage to take on just enough IT projects to keep us afloat. Medical bills alone drive me crazy! That's why I really appreciate you giving me a better-paying job that doesn't take me away from Emily."

"Whew!" my dad interjected. "Sounds like you desperately need a break! I can't imagine myself doing all that alone. I mean, we have servants at home and I have assistants at QC to do all the dirty work for me," Dad remarked, with humble admiration. "What do you say we give you a day off after Emily comes home?"

"A day off?" Felicity asked, with excitement in her voice.

"Yeah, a day for yourself. You can get out of the apartment, do whatever you want, while Stephen and I watch over Emily. You deserve a break. Just one day."

"Are you sure?" she asked with some hesitation. "I mean, what if something happens while I'm gone?"

"It'll be okay. You just give us all the instructions we need. You can leave all the emergency numbers, and we'll call you immediately if there are any problems, which, I'm sure there won't be."

Felicity sighed, and then grinned as she looked at my dad eye to eye. "No one's ever done that for me before, you know."

"I can see that," Dad said, "and I want to be the first one who does." Felicity instantly blushed. The gaze she had set on my dad's eyes suddenly fell, and she was now staring at the fork on her plate.

I coughed up a piece of fruit that had gotten caught in my throat as soon as I heard Dad's line. "Great going, Dad," I said to myself, but all I said out loud was, "Excuse me." I could feel the electricity in the air.

"So…?" My dad gave his offer another try, not minding my clumsiness. In no time, Felicity was nodding in agreement, a smile forming on the corners of her lips. "Well then, I guess that settles it," he declared.

We finished our meals and were soon ready to leave the cafeteria and go back to see Emily in the E.R. Before we stood up, Felicity reached for my dad's arm and said, "Oliver, thank you for being a friend."

A friend. I didn't know what to make of that exactly. Was that good news or bad news? "Friend" could mean she liked him back, right? It meant that there was now a relationship there somehow, and it could develop into something more. But, it could also mean that she only saw him as that – a friend – and nothing more. Was she putting boundaries, dropping my dad a hint that she wasn't ready for something more?

I looked at my dad and searched his facial expression for any clue as to what he understood by her statement. Ironically, I didn't find the clues I was expecting to find on his face. What I saw was sheer delight. Delight that her blue eyes were fixed on him once again. Delight that her hand had touched him no matter how briefly. Goodness! I don't even think he heard what she just said about him being a friend. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "we'll just have to wait and see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would be nice to know what you think of this AU fic so far.  
> Until the next update...


	5. Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity gets her day off just as Oliver promised. The day ends with a heart-to-heart talk that deepens their friendship.

Stephen:

It had been a week since Emily came home from the hospital. Dad and I, of course, helped the big and small blondes with that after he had finished everything in the office that day. Emily was recovering nicely, so that Friday night when we came over for a third visit just before dinner time, my dad reminded Felicity about the day off that they had agreed on back at the hospital.

Emily and I were watching TV in the living room, waiting for our pizza dinner to be ready. Felicity stood near the kitchen sink, tossing the salad greens and mixing in the dressing. Her back was turned away from us, so she didn’t see my dad walking over to the kitchen counter behind her. He placed both hands on the granite top about a meter apart and leaned over. “My offer is still on the table, you know,” he smirked. She turned around and was startled at how close he had come from where he had sat in the living room.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten either,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “I meant to ask you when you think would be the best time.”

“How about tomorrow? Stephen and I are available,” Dad said.

“Great! Can you come after breakfast, say 8:30?”

“Sure. Where are you planning on going?”

“Oh, Mr. Queen, that’s for me to know and for you to wonder about.” 

I saw Felicity actually wink at him when she said that. My dad just grinned and said, “So, I give you a day off, and you pay me back by keeping secrets. That’s just great.” 

Felicity giggled with glee as she brought the salad bowl and set it on the table beside the over-sized pepperoni pizza. “I’m not telling! It’s my day off after all. You did say I can do anything that I want. You didn’t say you had to know.”

“All right, you win.” Dad gave up. He knew she wouldn’t tell.

We all sat down on the table ready to dig in. Felicity said grace and in less than thirty minutes, the pizza was gone.

Emily:

The next day, I was just as excited as my mom. I woke up early, got out of bed, and found my mom fixing breakfast and lunch in the kitchen. When she saw me climbing on a chair at the dining table, she greeted me with a cheerful smile. “Mornin’ sweetie! Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

“Mmhmm,” I answered, rubbing my eyes to see more clearly. 

Mom was beaming. Her eyes were aglow. Her cheeks were rosy pink. And though she hadn’t fixed her hair up very well yet, she looked to me like an angel. “I wish she were this happy every day,” I remembered thinking at that moment. 

Mom hummed a familiar tune as she glided from one part of our home to another, as if floating on a cloud while doing her early morning chores. After cooking both meals and feeding me breakfast, she tidied up the kitchen and the dining area. She did the laundry and folded the clothes that had come from the dryer. She prepared my medicines and wrote down specific instructions for the guys who volunteered to take care of me. She then gave me a quick bath and fixed me up, choosing a yellow printed shirt and denim shorts as my get-up for the day.

“You’re all set now, Ems. Go on and watch some cartoons while Mommy gets ready for her big day. Okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.” I got settled in the couch in the living room. 

An episode of Phineas and Ferb had just finished when I heard knocking at the door. “That must be them!” I said to myself in excitement. I went to open the door.

“Good morning, Emily!” Oliver greeted. I raised both my arms, asking for a hug, but he did better. He picked me up, kissed my cheek, and carried me as he and Stephen came in. “How are you feeling today, little princess?”

“I’m fine!” I replied.

“Is your mom ready yet?”

“I dunno. She’s still in her room,” I answered. I wiggled my legs to let him know I wanted to him to put me down. “Stephen, let’s go watch cartoons!” 

Oliver set me down on the couch, and for the next twenty or so minutes, Stephen and I sat watching TV together. Oliver, however, had gone to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, reading the newspaper they had brought with them. As another episode on Cartoon Network had ended, my mom’s bedroom door swung open and we heard her call out, “Hi, guys! I’m all set!”

I quickly turned and saw the most amazing woman coming out of her room. I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore a bright avocado-green dress shorts that hugged at her waist and flowed down at mid-thigh, showing off her flawless legs (which, up until now, only I had had the privilege of seeing). She wore a white long-sleeved chiffon blouse that was unbuttoned – the fabric draping like see-through curtains near her arms. Underneath she was wearing her royal blue floral-printed one-piece swimsuit, with straps that went up her chest and were tied at the back of her neck. A pair of big, round-rimmed sunglasses was hanging from the center of her swimsuit just in front of a slightly showing cleavage. Her long blonde hair was down, gathered on one side and flowing down the front of her left shoulder. She wore light, day make-up that was highlighted by bright pink lipstick. What surprised me was that she wasn’t wearing her usual dark-rimmed eyeglasses. Not today. “Would she be able to see clearly without them?” I wondered secretly. She wore neon green flip-flops, so of course, her blue-painted toenails were showing. On one hand, she was holding a broad-brimmed yellow hat with a huge sunflower on one side. She was carrying a black duffle bag with the other hand. In one word, Mom looked terrrrrrific!

Stephen:

“Whoa!” was all I could say when Felicity came out of her room. I mean, she looked like a professional model posing for a summer fashion magazine! It wasn’t so much her outfit that sold the whole package. In fact, her get-up was really simple. It was the sweet, fresh, and bubbly expression on her face and her sunshiny disposition that made the world of difference. In one word, she was breath-taking!

I shifted my gaze from her to my dad. Dad was speechless, but he looked completely awed and astounded by her. The look on his face was indescribable! He was wide-eyed – the blues sparkled like diamonds, glistening with happiness – and his smile reached his ears. He hadn’t even broken his stare by a blink when Felicity spoke.

“Oliver, I said I’m ready to go. Is everything all right?”

“Dad?” He was in a daze. Better yet, he was dazzled by the sight of her. Who could blame him? She looked stunning. I had to help her get his attention. “Dad!” I repeated with a slightly louder tone.

That’s when he blinked for the first time and shook his head slightly to shake off whatever spell it was she had cast on him. He walked over to her and took her duffle bag from her hand. “We should give you more days off,” my dad said to her in a warm, soothing voice. “You look absolutely stunning.” He took the words right out of my mouth.

“Why, thank you, Oliver,” Felicity responded. “I feel great, and today’s gonna be a blast!”

After making sure we understood all her handwritten instructions, Felicity’s last words were: “Okay, guess we’re all set. Lunch is on the table, and you can raid the loaded fridge for snacks. Stick to kid-friendly channels. And remember, no chocolates or nuts for our precious princess.” She hugged and kissed Emily and said, “Are you gonna be okay?” When Emily nodded and gave her mom a quick peck on the lips, she said, “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll be back before dinner.” 

Dad started to walk Felicity out of the apartment, down to the building’s parking spaces, and into her car. He sent her off without asking where she was going. He had told me that he didn’t want to ask her too many questions about her mystery get-away. He didn’t have to anyway. Her outfit gave him an idea. He only wished he could be there… with her.

Emily:

Mom was back in time to prepare dinner. “I’m back!” she hollered as she announced her arrival.

“Mommy!” I sprung up from the carpeted floor of the living room and ran to her. I jumped into her open arms and she caught me, kissing me lips to lips. 

“Hey! You’re early,” Oliver remarked. He ended a call he was beginning to make and put his phone down on the kitchen counter. He was about to order pizza for dinner.

“Yup. There was nothing left for me to do that was interesting enough, so I figured I’d come home,” she explained with a still cheerful tone as she put away her stuff. “I was starting to miss you all.”

“Miss us all?” Oliver asked. He sounded like he really wanted to say, “You mean you miss me too?” 

It’s funny how my mom sort of knew that that was what he meant. I could see it in her eyes when she glanced his way. But what came out of her mouth was “Sure, I did. And I was kind of worried you guys might starve to death if I didn’t come back in time to make dinner.” She giggled as she put me down on the couch where Stephen was. “So how was your day?” she asked Oliver.

“Our day was fine. Nothing extraordinary, but fine. It’s your day that we want to hear about,” he replied. “Maybe now you can tell us where you’ve been?”

With a naughty look on her face, Mom told us all about her fantastic day off, watching us turn green with envy (which was her intention). She said she had gone to this nature and wellness beach resort just a few kilometers east of the freeway between Starling City and Central City. She said the owner of the place had been pleased about the digital security program she had set up there a few months ago and promised that she could come anytime and avail of their services for free at least once every six months. There she went for a swim, first at the beach, and then later in the indoor heated pool. Then, she went to the spa and got a full-body herbal oriental-style massage by some therapist named Ping. 

Later over dinner, Mom told us the whole story, stopping at times to close her eyes to bring back memories of her very relaxing experience. Most of the time, she was moving her hands rapidly, like in Charades, to help us get a picture of what she had done, or who she’d met. She babbled so fast our minds couldn’t keep up with her. Not one of us dared interrupt, though, for fear that all hell would break loose. How she was able to eat everything she had put on her plate while doing her monologue was a puzzle to me. She even finished her meal before any one of us did!

To complete her special day, Oliver and Stephen volunteered to clean up and do the dishes while Mom washed me up and got me into my PJs. By the time we were finished, father and son were already relaxing in the living room watching the evening news. All four of us snuggled close together in our comfy black suede couch, our feet up on the coffee table. It wasn’t long before Stephen fell asleep on his dad’s lap, his legs dangling out of one end of the couch. I pretended to be asleep on my mother’s lap, my legs also dangling out of the other end of the couch. My mom and his dad were in between us, listening to the reports of the day’s events around the world on CNN. Seeing that Stephen and I had fallen asleep (or so they thought), my mom turned down the volume of the television.

“Hey, listen,” she put down the remote and turned slightly to face Oliver. “I’d like to thank you for today. I haven’t had so much fun in a very long time.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s something. To me. I don’t think I can tell you how much this really means to me. I don’t think I can thank you enough. This really made me feel… special,” Mom said to him, almost teary-eyed. (I peeked.)

“That’s because you are. Special, I mean,” Oliver responded.

For a while, my mom looked down. And then as she looked up at him again, she sighed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt special. For a long time I’ve felt like I’m such a failure, I think I’ve convinced myself that I am.” A teardrop fell on my cheek, and Mom brushed it off with her finger.

“Felicity…” he said softly, “why in the world would you ever think that you’re a failure? You’re a wonderful mom and a remarkable woman.”

She was quiet for a while, and then she found the words and the courage to speak. In less than a month, a unique friendship had been growing between them, and she had begun to trust Oliver at this point. Somehow I could tell that what they had was just as special as how Oliver made my mother feel today.

“I’ve…made some…mistakes in the past. Stupid choices I cannot undo. I failed my parents, especially my dad. He had such high hopes for me. I had high hopes for me,” Mom said sadly.

“Haven’t we all made mistakes?”

“Not like the ones I’ve made, I suppose. I graduated summa cum laude from MIT, only to fall for some guy who pretended to care. I may be a genius, but I’m such an idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. Daddy warned me about guys like him, but I didn’t listen. I was madly in love, or so I thought. I was so stubborn I even fought for him… for us… until I found out I was…” My mom’s voice trailed off. More tears fell on my cheeks. I was almost ready to stop pretending to be asleep when Mom continued to speak. “He walked out on me in my darkest moment. Didn’t even give my baby his name. I lost my parents’ trust. I lost my self-respect. My future. How could someone like me ever feel special again?”

Oliver placed his hand on my mom’s hand, and slowly their fingers intertwined and then closed into a gentle fist on top of the throw pillow on her lap. 

“I’ve made my own stupid choices myself, and I regret them to this day. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could’ve done things differently,” he started to explain. “As you may know, I was the billionaire brat who fooled around and ran away from any type of commitment. Laurel, Stephen’s mom, she must have really loved me despite all the pain I had caused her. Even when we were together I had flings. Then I… got her pregnant… and everything in my life changed from then on. I honestly knew I didn’t love her, but my parents insisted I marry her because things would look bad for my family and hers. I felt trapped, and I resented it. But Laurel, she had such a big heart for me. She just kept on loving me even if I wasn’t loving her back.” 

“So you were an idiot, too,” my mom butt in, but very politely. “Now I understand,” she said.

“Understand what?” Oliver asked. He was a bit confused.

“What you said when I thought you were hitting on me at the park,” she replied. “You said you didn’t do that anymore.”

“That’s right, I don’t. I put all of that behind me. Laurel’s love for me helped me become a better person. Just as I realized how blessed I was to have her in my life, how much I needed to really love her, she was diagnosed with cancer and given nine months to live. Nine months. That was all I had left to love my wife, the mother of my son. By the time I had learned to love her, she was dying. I lost a future too.” Oliver’s voice began to break. He sniffed, and wiped the tears that had begun to run down his cheeks.

Silence. Tears. I didn’t exactly understand every word they were saying, but even as a child, I understood they were hurting. I wanted to cry too.

“I guess,” Mom started to speak after a minute or so, “since we’ve both been such miserable failures, then neither one of us is special at all.”

Oliver smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you’re right.”

“It’s getting late and the kids need to go to bed,” my mom said, cutting short the serious, heart-to-heart talk. She tried to stand up, but Oliver tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her back to the couch.

“Felicity Smoak,” he said tenderly, “I think I’ve found a friend in you.”

Mom grinned. “Well, what can I say? Misery loves company, right?” she teased.

“I’m serious,” he said. 

“I’m kidding,” she responded.

With that, they both chuckled. Oliver stood up and carried me to my bedroom. My mom tucked me in and kissed me good night. Together they went out to get Stephen. They left the door partly open to let in the light from the living room. I saw Oliver carry Stephen to the door.

“Thanks again for my day off. I’ll never forget it,” said my mom. She tiptoed a bit to give Oliver a light kiss on his cheek. “Good night.”

“Good night, Felicity,” he said with a warm smile.

She let them out through the door and waved goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you like this one. Well, did you? More fluff to come...


	6. Frozen and Fried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity's friendship deepens. Romantic feelings develop as they discover how much they're learning to care about each other (and each other's child).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some fluff?

Emily:

About two months had passed since my mom's "monumental day off." (That's what she has called it to this day.) She and I saw the Queens at the park less during weekdays since school started for Stephen, but Friday afternoons there became a regular for the four of us. We took turns hosting a mini picnic on the grass near the playground and her park bench. Mom and Oliver spent a lot of time – the entire afternoons, I suppose – talking, while Stephen and I played.

It had been a really good summer, if you ask me. Not only did I have a playmate to speak of, I felt like I had an unofficial big brother who was fond of me. Stephen was cool. He taught me how to throw and catch, but he gave up trying to teach me how to dribble. (What? Give me a break! I wasn't even half his size back then.) He was patient enough to play with me in the sandbox for at least fifteen minutes each time, before he thought of something to do by himself, even if I could sense it wasn't really his thing. I guess he felt like he was stuck with me, so he probably figured he'd make the most of it. But he sure was kind. He'd open a bag of chips or a pack of biscuits for me, wipe ketchup off my face, and look after me each time my mom and his dad had gotten totally lost in "their moment" and had forgotten there were two other human beings on the planet, running around the park, that needed their care and attention. Over the summer, I had realized how much fun it was to have an older brother…

And someone like… Oliver. Oh, he was way cooler than Mom in many ways! He actually spoiled me and treated me "like a Queen." (Get it?) I sometimes wondered if he had superpowers like the one Jean Grey or Charles Xavier in X-men had. He could make my mother change her mind without making her upset. I'd ask if I could play a little longer, and she'd say it's time to go. But he'd say, "Five minutes won't hurt." When I'd ask Mom if I could have some of Stephen's gum or drink a little Coke, she'd say, "Absolutely not, young lady." But Oliver would smirk at her and say, "Come on, Felicity, you must have had some of that when you were as young and cute as she is now." Mom would blush, and always… he always won. He would wink at me, his loyal partner in the crime of getting my mom to surrender to our whims.

I remember a time when I was running around the basketball court with Stephen. My mom had gone off to buy some ice cream and Oliver stayed behind to watch us. I tripped and fell flat on my face. It hurt so bad! Stephen, of course, came quickly to help me up, as his dad walked briskly towards us. Oliver picked me up and looked at my face. "Looks like you skinned your chin. Your mom's not gonna like this," he said.

He carried me back to the park bench and rummaged through our gigantic Disney bag with one hand, looking for the first aid kit that he knew was supposed to be there. When he found it, he put me down. He cleaned and treated my chin so gently that I didn't feel any sting, and then plastered a neon orange Band Aid over the scratch. "There. All done. You're as good as new, Emily," he said, proud of what he had accomplished.

I was so touched I just had to hug him tight. "Thank you, Oliver." I kissed him right on his lips and giggled.

That was when my mom came back, and he told her what had happened. After hearing the short story, Mom smiled and said, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom!" I replied.

But she said, "Oh, I wasn't talking to you, sweetie. I was talking to him," she said, fixing her gaze on Oliver. That time, he was the one who blushed.

I could tell you more stories, but I think you already get the picture. Oliver had made me begin to wonder what it must feel like to have a dad. I had never known. Don't get me wrong. Mom's great, and I love her with all my heart. But having Oliver around was different. I felt… safe. Mom and I were safe. I didn't have to analyze his actions and behavior (like I'm doing now) to know that he'd been learning to care deeply about us, because I had felt it… with every kind word, with every warm smile, every silly joke… by how much time he spent getting to know us more, and by the way he behaved around my mom.

Stephen: 

It didn't take a genius to figure out that my dad and Emily's mom were becoming best of friends. They obviously enjoyed doing a lot of things together. And I mean a lot. There was this one time when Dad and I were the first ones to arrive at the park. Dad began to read the day's paper while waiting for the girls. He had started working on the crossword puzzle when they arrived. As soon as Felicity spotted the black and white squares he was staring at, she cried, "Crossword! Mind if I join you? I just love puzzles!" My dad was startled, but he quickly recovered at the sight of her winsome smile and the wide-eyed wonder on her face. "Sure! Sit with me."

And she did, with much excitement. She babbled and rambled about how her father had taught her how to solve crosswords when she was about four years old and how they had moved on to more sophisticated word and number puzzles until she became more interested in gadgets and computers at age seven. She had taken over. She scribbled one letter after another with the enthusiasm of a teenager on a roller coaster ride. My dad just sat there, watching her intently with admiration and fondness. Seriously, the puzzle was done in less than eight minutes.

Then there was this other time. There was a Disney-sponsored event at the park that Friday afternoon to promote Frozen 2. Emily begged her mother to go, but she was down with the flu and couldn't take her. My dad had called them from the park asking why they weren't there yet, saying that Emily was going to miss her favorite Disney characters. Felicity explained that they couldn't go because she was under the weather. "We had planned to go, Oli—Achoo! I'm sorry… Ahem… But I'm afraid I just can't take her like this… Maybe next time, when they come up with Frozen 3," she said in between a sneeze, a cough, and a sniff.

Dad could hear Emily crying in the background, and he just wouldn't have it. "If it's all right with you, we can take her," he told her. Felicity was more than grateful. We walked to their apartment and in ten minutes, Emily was glad to greet us at the door.

Felicity was a mess. Her hair was all shriveled up and tangled at the ends. Her eyes were puffy and watery, and her nose was redder than the Christmas reindeer's. She wore an unbuttoned pink sweater over grey tank tops that was partly tucked in and partly hanging out of her grey baggy sweatpants. She was kneeling in front of Emily in the hallway just outside the bathroom door, trying her best to get her child dressed. She wasn't her usual organized and systematic self, I could tell. She put a purple shirt on Emily, wrong side out, and the poor girl's socks didn't match. She scuffled and shuffled trying to find a hairbrush after that, and when she found it, couldn't decide what to do with the girl's hair.

Dad and I looked at each other with our eyebrows raised and our shoulders shrugging. "These girls need help," we told each other just by looking. My dad walked towards the bedroom, where Felicity now stood right beside Emily trying to fix her daughter's blonde locks. He placed his steady hand on her fumbling hand that held the hairbrush and said, "Here, let me help."

She didn't give up the object dad was politely asking for. "Oh, it's fine. I've got this," she said. "I just need to find that purple… Where is that thing? It was here a minute ago…" She saw the purple hair band on the dresser behind her. She took a quick, clumsy step while turning towards it. Suddenly, she lost her balance and started to fall backwards. It was a good thing my dad caught her in his arms faster than the hairbrush crashing on the floor, or she would have hit her head against the corner of the wooden dresser and hurt herself.

My dad had lunged forward to catch her as she fell, and in a split-second, he was down on one knee, cradling Felicity in his arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes and blinked a couple of times, unsure of what had just happened.

Keeping one arm underneath across her back, and that hand holding her at the nape, Dad brushed away a stray strand of golden locks from her face with his free hand. "You lost your balance," he told her. "You're definitely not okay."

Felicity nodded. "Mmhmm, guess not," she replied. "I feel woozy and dizzy."

You'd think he and she wouldn't last long in that awkward position, but they held it for a good solid minute, I think. Speechless. They gazed at each other as if they were studying every inch of the other's face. For a moment I was bothered that she was breathing germs onto my dad's face. "He's gonna get that bug if he doesn't let go of her soon," I remembered thinking. But my dad obviously didn't mind. He looked pleased that his lips were only a few inches away from hers… and closing in slowly.

"Oh no," I thought to myself, "this is gonna be gross."

Just as Dad was about to plant a kiss on her lips, Felicity's hand covered her mouth. She pulled him into her chest, and sneezed over his shoulder! The sneeze was so loud and so strong they both fell on the carpet with a thud. Before long, both grown-ups were rolling over the carpeted floor, laughing their hearts out for the next minute or so – just about the same length of time I had spent deciding whether I would find their childish behavior amusing or disgusting.

"Let's get you to bed. You need to rest," my dad said, as he helped Felicity get back on her feet. He held her by the elbow, led her to the bed, and tucked her in. "Now, you be a good girl and follow doctors orders," he teased.

"Anything you say, Dr. Queen," was her reply.

My dad left the room and came back a couple of minutes later with a glass of water and Tylenol. He helped her sit up for a while to take the pill, and then gently laid her head back down on the pillow.

"Emily…" Felicity muttered, motioning for her daughter, who was, by now, watching television in the living room.

"No worries. I've got her. You just take a nice long nap. By the time you wake up, we'll be back, frozen and all," he kidded with a comforting tone.

"Thanks," she said as she shut her eyes closed. Before dad finished fixing up her daughter, Felicity had dozed off. Shortly after, we went on our way.

Emily:

I had so much fun at Frozen that afternoon! I came home wearing a nice, blue Elsa cape and crystal snowflake earrings that were given away as souvenirs by the Disney folks at the park. I was humming "Love is an Open Door" as the guys and I strolled down the hallway of the apartment building and reached our home. Mom was already up and about and was fixing dinner. Apparently, the Tylenol had kicked in. She was still sniffing, but her slight fever had gone down. I went over to her and hugged her legs. She bent over to kiss the top of my head, but couldn't hug me coz her hands were all greasy.

"Smells good!" Oliver remarked.

"You're welcome to stay… for dinner… It's fried chicken and fries night…" Mom invited the guys.

"Dad, can we?" Stephen was the first one to respond.

"Sure thing, kiddo," Oliver said, ruffling the hair on his son's head. "We're in," he told my mom. "I'm a sucker for chicken and homemade fries."

"Well, thank you for telling me," Mom said, as she picked up the pieces of deep-fried chicken one by one with the tongs and placed them on a platter. "Now I know what to make you guys for park picnic, for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and oh—When are your birthdays? I've never bothered to ask."

Oliver's eyes glimmered, hearing what she had just said. Much later on I found out why he had that look of happiness and longing on his face. He told us later that what my mom had just said made him feel special that time around. He had realized that, although unspoken, my mom had considered him and Stephen a part of our life. He also realized that for the first time since they met us, it was at that very moment that he began to feel like we could be… family.

"My birthday is the day after Christmas. Dad's is the day before!" Stephen was the one who answered Mom's question. "Wow, isn't that neat!" Felicity remarked.

Oliver just smiled. We sat on the dinner table and enjoyed her home-cooked meal, and the rest of that day was history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff to come...
> 
> And as always, it would be great to hear from you.


	7. First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Oliver and Felicity face the first real test of their growing relationship, which opens up a whole lot of other firsts for them. (wink)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a brief introduction by Stephen and Emily, the rest of this chapter is tild from Oliver's and Felicity's POVs.

Stephen: 

In the brief history of Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak's friendship, I consider one particular event a milestone. As I've said, it was right about that time when school had started for me that they had begun to get close. As the leaves turned yellow and orange all around the city and fell to the ground by the millions to welcome Fall, there had been several memories of friendship shared between them. But that one time was the time when I knew for sure that they had crossed the line from friendship to a more serious relationship.

Emily:

What makes you so sure, Stephen?

Stephen:

Emily, I thought you were smarter than that. Just think about it. Only the best and truest of friends can fight like hell and make up like heaven.

Emily:

Oh, I get it! You're talking about their first real fight. I love that story. Come on, tell it. Tell it!

Stephen: 

Okay, but we gotta tell it like they tell it. I'll tell Dad's side of the story, and you tell your mom's side of the story.

***************************

Felicity:

"You're making me nervous!" I said. "I thought you told me when I took the job that I didn't have to set foot at QC." I looked at Oliver with searching eyes. I loved solving puzzles, but I hate real-life mysteries. Last Friday he told me he needed me to show up at Queen Consolidated today, Monday, but he wouldn't tell me why exactly. He just said that Garber had something for me to work on, but that I needed to come get some documents myself. I sat with him at the back of his limousine, my heart throbbing in my chest.

He had introduced his driver and bodyguard, Mr. John Diggle. The whole trip from my apartment to QC, the man glanced at me every now and then from the rear view mirror. I wasn't annoyed by that, coz he seemed to be a really nice man. I was more annoyed by Oliver's secret. "What could be so important that he needed to bring me over?" I kept asking myself. He had even arranged for Lucia, his former nanny, to watch Stephen and Emily in the apartment while we're gone.

The limo stopped in front of the huge steps of Queen Consolidated's enormous building. "Stay here," Oliver instructed as he got out on the other side. Mr. Diggle opened my door and held it, as Oliver bent over slightly to offer his hand. I took it, and he pulled me out gently.

As he closed the door behind me, I said, "Thank you, Mr. Diggle." To which he responded, "You can call me John, Ms. Smoak." I smiled at him and said, "All right, John, if you promise to call me Felicity." He smiled back and nodded in the affirmative. I pulled down my black-and-white dress a bit to smoothen the wrinkles and straightened my glasses, and then Oliver walked me up the steps towards the main entrance.

It was a few minutes before 8:00 in the morning, and almost all the employees were just coming in as we arrived. Almost everyone stopped to greet Oliver "good morning." People – men and women alike – were staring at us. Some carried on, walking hurriedly to their respective offices and floors, but I could still hear them talking about us: "Who is she?" "I have no idea." "First time I saw her." I was starting to feel uncomfortable, but I kept my poise and walked confidently beside Oliver, keeping up with his gait.

We passed through routine security at the main entrance, but at Oliver's signal, the guards skipped the usual bag check and frisking. Security personnel in the x-ray area and those behind the counter in the lobby were smirking, mumbling things to one another. I wouldn't have thought that that had anything to do with me if they hadn't been stealing glances as soon as we passed through the main entrance. I wasn't being paranoid, but seriously, if I had eyes all over my body, I would have freaked out to see everyone staring at me from different directions as we crossed the spacious lobby and stopped in front of the elevators. I felt like a lone goldfish in a huge aquarium.

As we waited for a ride, I looked at myself in the mirror on the wall right across the elevators to check out how I looked. "Was there something on my face? Was the dress I picked too tight or provocative?" I asked myself.

I noticed Felicity was acting a little edgy. I took a step near her and touched her arm. "Is everything okay?" I asked. She flashed a fake smile and lifted her eyebrows as she nodded. That wasn't like her at all. Her smile had always been genuine up to this point. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, I just told her, "Relax. Everything will be fine."

Once the elevator doors opened, I let her get on first, and then I got in after her, holding the doors in place. I pushed the close button. "No one else is getting on?" she asked. "Oh, this is my private elevator. It goes straight to my floor," I explained. "Oh, I see," she said. The doors opened thirty-some floors after, and Steve Garber, head of the IT department, was there to greet us.

"Good morning, Mr. Queen. And good morning, Ms. Smoak! It's wonderful to finally meet you in person," the man said.

"The feeling is mutual, sir," I answered him. It was good to finally meet my immediate boss. For the last two to three months, we had been communicating only via email, chat, video conferencing, and Skype. Garber was nice, but he had so much more to learn. I'd been meaning to ask him where he got his IT training, but I had decided not to, as it might not be appropriate. He might misinterpret my sincere intentions of helping him and think of me as an arrogant know-it-all who didn't know what's good for her. So, I just contented myself with making one suggestion and recommendation after another, hoping that he would oblige, and almost every time, he did.

Just as we got out of the elevator and began to walk with Garber down the carpeted, marble-walled hallway, a woman with brunette hair, in her mid-thirties, walked up to Oliver from behind. She was wearing a figure-squeezing black dress that flaunted her slender form and magnified her cleavage better than a pair of binoculars could. She touched Oliver on the shoulder and slid her hand down his arms, stopping at his elbow. "My, my, Oliver Queen, looking as handsome as always," she said with a seductive tone of voice.

Oliver looked at her and pressed his lips together before saying, "Good morning, Isabel."

"And what do we have here?" she asked. "New secretary?"

"Isabel Rochev, this is Felicity Smoak. Felicity, Ms. Rochev is the head of the accounting department." When he finished the brief introduction, he looked at the woman in black. "Isabel, Felicity is an exceptional IT specialist. MIT, class of 2009. She started working for QC more than two months ago. Garber called her in for a special meeting today."

The woman's eyebrow lifted, almost touching her hairline. She looked at me from top to bottom, and then up again. She had a cynical smirk on one corner of her lips. She then put one hand on her hips and looped her other arm around Oliver's right arm. "Seems like you've switched gears, Oliver, dear. I didn't know you had a thing for blondes with brains."

Now that hurt. I barely knew this woman, let alone liked her. How dare her talk like that! The flirting I could handle, but those words… Grrr! I may be blonde, but I'm not that blonde!

I looked at Oliver's face. The last traces of a smile were gone. He pressed his lips harder and squinted at her. Before he could let go of her arm, she pulled away, saying, "Well, see you around, Ms. Smoak. I'm sure Oliver here can keep you busy." Oliver was more than humiliated. He was insulted. I was insulted. I was beginning to really hate that place.

To lighten the tension in the air, Garber cleared his throat and began to speak. "This way, sir. Everybody's waiting." Garber directed us to a large conference room down the hallway next to Oliver's impressive-looking office.

"Everybody?!" I heard the word echo in my brain. "Who's everybody? I thought Garber only wanted to show me something," I thought to myself in panic.

It turns out the entire IT department was there waiting for us. At Oliver's signal, everybody sat down. Garber ushered me to a seat near the front, as he took his place in front of the screen, facing everyone. Oliver sat several meters away, at the rear end of the conference table.

Oliver:

I shut my eyes and paused for a moment to breathe. "Isabel sure knows how to make an entrance," I thought. That woman was nothing but trouble ever since. I saw the look on Felicity's face. She was more than embarrassed. She was insulted. I was insulted. "I've got some explaining to do later," I told myself. I really hoped Felicity didn't start hating QC because of her, especially not now.

"Good morning, people!" Garber began his speech. I opened my eyes and put on a CEO smile.

"Well, as you can see," Garber continued, "our entire department has been called up here today for a special announcement. If you hadn't yet noticed, since our merger more than three months ago, a lot has been going on in our department. A lot of changes. Good changes. In fact, the performance of our section has never been better. Two months ago, most of you expressed that you were having difficulties running our programs, troubleshooting problems with the mainframe or the servers… Hey, some of us couldn't even fix online glitches! But thanks to the ingenious adjustments done by our newest specialist, Smoak, and many of her invaluable contributions to the upgrades in our system, performance efficiency in our department has gone up by 65% just in the last month. Well done, everyone!" And turning to Felicity, Garber interjected, "And congratulations, Ms. Smoak!"

With much excitement and pride, I applauded, and everyone in the room followed suit. I knew Garber wasn't finished, so I hadn't walked up to Felicity yet, even though I couldn't wait to see how she had reacted to Garber's praises.

"I know some of you already know about my resignation. As outgoing Senior Supervisor of the IT department of Queen Consolidated, it is my pleasure and privilege to announce the promotion of Ms. Smoak to take my place effective on the first day of October. I expect everyone to give Ms. Smoak a warm reception and the utmost respect she truly deserves as your new boss. I would expect nothing less from you all. Good day, and thank you for coming."

Everybody's jaw dropped. And as Garber walked away, a hushed commotion filled the room. Half of the people were standing, the other half remained seated, but all of them were dumbfounded over Garber's baffling announcement. Scanning the room, I had mixed emotions tugging from the opposite corners of my heart. Felicity was among those who stayed seated. She was still staring at Garber, who was standing right in front of her, shaking her hand. Her lips were pale, and her eyes were welling up with tears. Her face was the picture of utter disbelief, shock, embarrassment… I don't know for sure. I wet my lower lip, bit down on it, and heaved a troubled sigh. "What have I done?" I asked myself.

Felicity:

"Congratulations, again, Ms. Smoak!" Garber let go of my hand and walked away.

I honestly didn't know what to think or how I should feel. I mean, I just got promoted, and by next month, I'm probably going to get paid three times what I'm getting at the moment. I should be ecstatic, right? Garber praised me in front of all these people and told them that he expected them to show me respect. I should be proud, right? But I didn't feel ecstatic. I didn't feel proud. I was totally embarrassed. And why wouldn't I be? Men and women who had been in this company longer than I have – literally – aimed suspicious stares at me. They were whispering amongst themselves, fabricating demeaning accusations about how in the world I could have gotten the promotion. Several versions of the same lie were within my hearing distance, but the worst, most brazen lie someone came up with was this: "I bet my bottom dollar she got the job because she slept with him." They gossiped in hushed voices as they left the room… until there was no one there but Oliver and me.

Oliver:

Her tears fell. She took a tissue from her purse and wiped her face dry, and then she stood up. When her tender but sad blue eyes met my regretful ones, I said in an apologetic tone, "I can explain."

"Oliver, I just want to go home. Please take me home." That was all she said. She walked out of the conference room and saw Diggle waiting in my office. "John, please take me home."

John looked at me, puzzled, as if asking, "What went wrong?" I just shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, putting my hands in my pockets. John and I followed her down the hallway, into the elevator, and out of the building.

It was quiet in the limo as Diggle drove us away from QC. I couldn't breathe with all the tension. I couldn't stand another second fearing that Felicity was angry with me. So I mustered some courage and tried again, "Felicity, please give me a chance to explain." Her answer was silence. Another tear fell from her eye. She turned her face away from me to look out the window.

I kept trying. I could sense that she was hurting deeply, but I refused to accept that this could be the end of our friendship… the end of us. At that moment, I realized I couldn't lose Felicity. Not now, not ever. So I took the risk and began to explain, whether or not she'd listen.

"Garber came to me last week and handed me his resignation. His diabetic mother fell and broke her hip, bedridden for the rest of her life now. He said she asked him, being her only child, to come take care of her. So he's moving to Canada permanently. I accepted his irrevocable resignation. When I asked him whom he thought would be the best person for the position he's vacating, he unequivocally picked you. He said you were a genius, one of a kind, and that I'd be crazy not to offer you the job because you would be an asset to the company."

"See, that's the problem right there, Oliver. Garber told you to offer me the job," Felicity was clearly angry, but she was holding back her rage.

"I'm sorry… I… Garber and I thought it would be a good idea to surprise you. I didn't think-"

"That's right! You didn't think!" Now she was beginning to yell. "You didn't think about the other IT specialists in your company who had been standing in line for who knows how long just to get a promotion!"

"But Garber said you were the best!" I started to raise my voice, too. "He said no one in the department came close to what you could do for the company-"

She cut me off. "And that's supposed to flatter me?! O, come on! So what if I'm more brilliant than anyone in the entire department?" The intensity in her voice was escalating, and I could sense that the next words she was about to say would be even more emotionally charged. "Don't patronize me, Oliver! I'm not Isabel Rochev!"

"You've got to be kidding! What does Isabel have to do with-"

"You don't get it, do you, Oliver! Maybe Isabel has the effrontery to keep working for you after whatever it was you had with her in the past. Maybe she has nerves of steel that let her work in a company filled with back-stabbing gossipers. But I don't! Look, no one cares if I'm smart or qualified. They may never care. How am I supposed to take charge now that everyone thinks I got the job just because I may have slept with you?!" As soon as she let that last line out of her chest, she broke down crying.

I wanted to take her hand in mine. I wanted to wrap my arms around her. I wanted to hold her face in my hands and tell her how sorry I am. But I knew this wasn't the time. All I managed to say was, "I'm really, really sorry, Felicity. You're right. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking of the repercussions of your promotion."

For the first time since we got in the car, Felicity turned to look at me. "Now you're talking," she said in a significantly calmer tone. She removed her glasses, looked down, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she spoke again, "Oliver, you didn't even think to ask if I wanted the job in the first place. And what was I to do with Emily? You know getting a job is complicated for me. I really don't appreciate the surprise. It was so inconsiderate of you."

"I'm sorry. On impulse, and at the prompting of Garber, we set up the surprise. I thought you'd be happy. You're perfect for the job, not because I think that you and Emily could use the pay hike, but because I believe that you're the best at what you do and you deserved the position. But, I should have talked things over with you instead of surprising you like that." Felicity just nodded in agreement.

The car pulled to a stop. We were in front of her apartment building. In as much as I didn't want to leave our conversation hanging, I knew it was unfair to her for me to keep pushing until she at least says she forgives me. So I didn't push. She opened the door, and before she got out, she said, "Oliver, I need some time away from you… to think." She got out, closed the door, and left.

I understood what she meant. I just didn't like how it felt. But she needed some space, and I was willing to wait. I gave her a day, then two. But as the week was coming to a close, I was beginning to feel downcast. She wasn't answering my texts or returning my calls. I was afraid I'd be reading her resignation letter the following Monday. I thought it'd be pointless to knock on her door because I had promised to give her time.

Soon it was Friday. I took Stephen to the park, hoping to see our blonde girls. But as the sun began to set, Stephen said, "Dad, I don't think they're coming." He handed me the basketball, and together we sat on her park bench and talked for a while.

"What happened, Dad? Did you and Felicity have a fight?"

"Yeah, we sure did. A big one."

"What about?"

"Oh, I pulled a stunt on her at work and she didn't like it."

"And why did you do that?"

"Coz I wasn't thinking."

Stephen grinned and said, "You'll get her back, Dad." He opened the outside pocket of my sports bag and took out something. He handed me my Swiss knife and smiled. I took it from my son's hand and started carving.

Felicity:

It had been a week since our fight, and oh, how I missed him. Emily missed him. Every time my phone buzzed or rang, my heart ached. We had become such good friends. Now I'm just… I'm not so sure how we're supposed to move on after what happened. "Maybe I should quit my job and go back to free-lancing. Emily and I weren't doing so badly before the Queens came into our lives," I thought. I needed some air. "Emily, sweetie, let's go to the park."

I was so sure the guys won't be there at this hour. It was Monday morning, around 10:30. Emily and I walked to the park. The sunshine and the breeze were just right. When we got there, Emily went straight for the sandbox. I gave her the plastic pail and trowel and watched her get settled in. As I turned back towards my bench, I caught a glimpse of the basketball court. For a moment, I imagined Oliver and Stephen playing ball. The wind blew; it blew my memories away. I sighed as I tucked some hair behind my ear and pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

I walked over to my park bench, and before I could put our Disney bag down, I saw it. Carved on the topmost wooden slat of the back rest was my very own name: Felicity Smoak. "This wasn't here before our fight," I thought. Then I began to sob, my heart bursting at the seams with joy. "He's reaching out to me. He really is sorry. He does care after all," I thought to myself. I stuck my hand into the bag and groped in it for my phone. When I found it, I called Oliver's number.

After just one ring, he picked up. Before I could even speak, he said, "Hey! Glad you called. Where are you?" I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was happy to hear mine.

"Uhm, I'm at the park. I see you carved my name," I said softly and slowly.

"You like it?"

"Very much. Can we talk?"

"Well, it depends. I'm on coffee break right now, but I've got an important meeting at 11:00."

"Oh… maybe next time then."

"But… see, if you would kindly let down your hair, take off your glasses, and turn around in that exact same spot where you're standing now, wearing that gorgeous pink dress and nice grey sweater, I might reconsider." I gasped. I hung up and turned around. There he was. Oliver was walking towards me, holding his phone with one hand and a coffee tray for two with the other.

Oliver:

Felicity didn't move from where she was standing. She waited for me to come, her eyes locked onto mine. As I requested, she let her hair down. She took off her glasses. And then she smiled and took my breath away. When we were just a couple of feet away, I put my phone and the coffee tray down on the bench and moved closer to her. I took both her hands in mine and lifted them close to my chest.

"Hey," I said tenderly. "Hey," she replied, matching the tone of my voice.

Then I paused, looking into her eyes. What I was about to say required all the courage I had in my bones. "Felicity, please find it in your heart to forgive me. I truly am sorry for putting you in that awfully embarrassing situation. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did, coz I wasn't thinking straight." She was nodding her head as tears began to fall from her beautiful blue orbs. "Most of all, I am sorry that my past has caught up with me and hurt you this way. People haven't been very forgiving. And even after I had long since turned my back on my shameful old ways, my former reputation keeps haunting me. Now it hurts me to see that it may have started to haunt you too."

"Oh, Oliver… I do forgive you! You're my best friend." Felicity replied. She managed another smile as her eyes continued to well up with tears. "I don't care what people think of you. I may not have known who you were, but I know who you have become. You are a kind, gentle, and honorable man with a heart strong enough to rise above pain and whatever challenge life brings your way. You can't change your past. Neither can I. All we can do is live in the present the best way we can so that we can change the future."

Her words touched the core of my being in two very different ways. They soothed my soul like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. They set my heart ablaze like a flaming torch brandished in the dead of night.

I pulled her in and wrapped her arms around my waist. I cupped my hands on both sides of her face and spoke. "I want so much to change the future… with you, Felicity Smoak… if you're willing to be more than just my friend."

"I sure would like us to try," she replied. As soon as those words left her mouth, I sealed it with a kiss. It was a gentle, meaningful kiss – perfect and pure and passionate in every way. We poured into it not just our souls but our dreams and hopes.

Felicity:

Oliver and I pulled back at just about the same time. I chuckled as he planted one more kiss on my forehead as he held on to my arms. 

"How is this possible?" I asked. "We've become a couple without even going out on a date!" 

He replied, "Who needs dates? What could be better than falling in love with my best friend?!" 

After one final embrace, Oliver said goodbye and left for his meeting at QC. I sat on my now-official park bench, smiling as I watched Emily play. 

"Oh, Emily," I sighed. I reveled in the thought that maybe, just maybe, she might have a daddy after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... now they're a couple. What did you think of that?
> 
> Next up: their first date


	8. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity are now a couple, and one by one the people dearest to them learn of the pleasant news. Their memorable first date happens, in which Felicity shows how she handles the press and the public, and Oliver discovers something about Felicity (to his astonishment).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After another short introduction by Emily and Stephen, they get to tell another story from their parents' points of view.
> 
> In the last chapter, John Diggle is introduced to the story. Here, it's Thea's turn.

Emily:

…and that's why the first fight is my favorite story to tell about my mom and your dad! I think we did a pretty good job telling it like they would. Don't you think so, Stephen?

Stephen:

Yeah. I've heard them tell that story over and over again. Each time they had a fight or a heated argument in front of us, and then make up after, they'd tell the same tale to make us feel better and assure us that it wasn't the end of the world for both of them. And while we're at this really fun game of role play, what do you say we try it one more time, Ems?

Emily:

Sure, I'm game!

Stephen:

Cool! This time, let's tell the story of their first date. That's my favorite.

Emily:

Take it away, Stephen! I mean, Oliver.

**************************  
Oliver:

That unforgettable Monday morning at the park marked the beginning of commitment in our relationship. Commitment. Such a big word. But I was determined to make it work, with her by my side. Felicity wasn't some fling, and although I had learned to love Laurel, I knew deep down in my heart that Felicity was different. Oh, it's not just because of how beautiful and remarkable she was. It's not because she made me feel good inside. It's certainly not because I wanted something from her. I think... it's because I had changed for the better ever since I've known her, and I still am changing because of her. Whether she recognizes it or not, she has made me want to care, to give of myself, to overcome my past and my pain... to love.

Felicity:

I came home that Monday morning partly thrilled and partly in shock. Thrilled, because of the man who had captured my heart and dared to take the next step of faith with me, crossing the line from simply caring to seriously committing. Shock, because I had never in my wildest dreams – since the day I found out I was pregnant with Emily – that this was possible. Sure, I had imagined that some guy good and decent enough might one day come along and rescue me from my plight of being a regretful single mom, perhaps out of compassion, or even genuine care. I imagined it wouldn't be difficult to fall in love with such a person... eventually. But Oliver... he's... he's my unexpected, undeserved gift of grace. Since the day I met him, my life has taken on new meaning. He has given me hope. He has shown me so much love and care in last few months than any other man (other than my dad, of course) had shown me in my lifetime! And oh, how much I want to love him back and give him the respect he so very much deserves.

Oliver:

A lot of things happened in the week that followed. First of all, we talked to our kids about our relationship, separately, and then we talked it over with them again together, over Friday picnic at the park later that week. Stephen immediately understood what being a couple meant, but Emily couldn't quite get it yet. She had said, "Couple? What's a couple?" Felicity tried her best to explain it to her the simplest way she could. After a failed attempt at a mini-lecture on Relationships 101, she sighed and glanced at me with that "help-me-out-here" look.

I chortled. I found it fun watching her babble away, trying to get Emily to understand. I understood the situation very well. You see, before I came along, she had never seen her mom go out with other men, and since they moved to Starling City almost two years ago, Felicity had no male friends to speak of or to even introduce to her daughter. Emily's limited concept of relating with the male species revolved around her grandfather, Mr. Alcorn who lived next door in the apartment building, Felix the butcher in the supermarket, Dr. Fischer her pulmonologist-allergologist, Rev. Olsen the pastor in the local church they attended, Garber her mother's online boss, and a few boys in the park who had become playmates or acquaintances before Stephen and I came along. So, I took it upon myself to explain to her what being a couple meant.

"It's like this, Emily," I began what I had carefully thought out to say in a few words, "just like in Frozen, your mom is my Anna, and I am her Christoff."

She thought for a moment. "Ooh," she said with glee, "I get it!" She paused one more time, and then went on to say, "So, mom is the princess, and you're her prince. Cool! Does that mean you get to live happily ever after?"

Felicity:

That was the cutest, most adorable thing I had ever heard my daughter say!

Oliver, the track star that he was, beat me to an answer to her question. "Well, Prince Charming here is doing everything he can," he said, pointing to himself, "but it's really up to your Princess Mom if she wants us to live happily ever after." He punctuated his answer with a mischievous wink.

"Oh, please, please, Mommy. Pleeeez!" I normally would respond to something like that with my usual babble, but I just smiled... and babbled in my head.

Happily ever after. For a moment there I had day-dreamed into the future and saw myself walking down the aisle at church all dressed in white, a few paces behind Emily as my beautiful flower girl, and up ahead were Oliver, handsome in his tux, and Stephen by his side as his little best man. I saw Oliver and myself on a gondola ride in Venice or sunbathing on a beach in Niece, southern France on a Mediterranean honeymoon get-away. I saw a four-bedroom brick house in the suburbs with our king-sized matrimonial bed, a nursery, definitely a bigger kitchen, and of course, a state-of-the-art computer room with a digital security lock that only I knew the password for.

Oliver:

Another development that same week was the conversation I had with Diggle over lunch at Big Belly Burger's. Diggle was more than a limo driver and a bodyguard. He had become my friend over the years. Hiring him ten years ago was one of the wisest decisions my mother had ever made. He was there for me when Laurel died. He encouraged me in the midst of my darkest hour, convincing me that there was more to life than all the regrets I kept bottled inside. Our coffee cup conversations helped me heal and move on. He was actually the first person who made me consider the possibility that there was still someone out there who was the perfect fit for me. So naturally, he was the first person I shared the news about Felicity with. Dig was more than pleased and happy for me.

"It's about time, man," he had said. "This is the best news in the last three years... next to wedding my Lyla, of course," he added with a chuckle.

And then I told Thea the next day. My younger sister had just graduated from college with a degree in business, just like everyone in my small family. Before my dad died, he made her promise she would be my partner in making sure that QC remained a Fortune 500 company. She had taken an extended summer break in London after graduation – a grand vacation that she said she owed herself – and had just arrived from the airport that morning. I thought that the news about me and Felicity would be a wonderful homecoming surprise.

"Hey, Speedy," I greeted, using the nickname I had given her since she was a toddler.

Thea put her purse on the center table in the foyer and let go of her carry-on bag. "Ollie! You're home. Nothing big happening at QC today?" She walked over to me and gave me a nice big hug. "I missed you so much!"

"Nah, nothing much. Mom told me you were coming in this morning, so I thought I'd stay here when you arrived. And yes, I did miss you too. How was London?" I asked.

"Great! Met a few interesting people. I got to see all the sites and landmarks I wanted to see. I swear I'm not setting foot in another museum in the next ten years! Next time I get, I'm going to Paris! And you, my dear brother, what have you been up to?"

I grinned. Immediately, Thea understood. She already figured out by the expression on my face that I was going to talk about a girl. "Well... that's sort of my homecoming gift for you," I said.

"I see you've met someone," she said with a naughty look on her face. She was an expert at reading my nonverbal cues. "Go on..."

"Ah, yes. Her name is Felicity. Met her this summer. Afternoon picnics at the park, you know. Offered her a job in our IT department. Oh... and saved her daughter's life."

"Daughter? Ollie! You're not into married women now, are you?" she exclaimed with an agitated tone.

"Of course not! Why would you think that? Felicity's a single mom. Never been married."

"Oh, sorry." The volume of her voice immediately toned down. "So, tell me more about her. What makes this one special?"

"Special... is an understatement. She's the one, Thea."

Thea's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Mr. Oliver Queen... who would have thought...?" With one hand she covered her gaping mouth.

It took her a few seconds to recover, and then she said, "Ollie, you've found the one. You never said that about anyone before. Not even Laurel." Thea didn't tease like she used to whenever I told her about another girl in my life. She was sincere this time. She studied my face and saw nothing but happiness and delight as I told her more about Felicity. And when I was done telling her all there was to tell, her eyes pooled with tears. Before the tears fell, she leaned forward and gave me a warm embrace.

When she leaned back on the couch in the living room where we were already seated, she asked, "Have you told Mom?"

"Not yet," I replied.

"Mmhmm. And when are you planning on telling her?"

"I thought it would be nice to invite Felicity and Emily over for Thanksgiving," I said.

"You sure that's a good idea? You know how Mom is. You should get Felicity ready, if you know what I mean. It's more than a month until Thanksgiving, so you have plenty of time."

"I know. Besides, I'm not that worried. I have you to back me up. Am I right?" I gave her that big brother stare, waiting for a signal of her absolute compliance.

"Oh, Ollie. If you're sure she's the one, I'm in. 100%!"

"Thanks," I said, grinning. "Oh, there's one more thing," I added. "You think you could watch Stephen and Emily Saturday night? I'd been wanting to ask Felicity out on our first date."

"Unbelievable!" Thea almost screamed in astonishment. "First date? Really? You're already a couple, and you haven't even gone on a date? You're a little rusty, big brother!" Thea teased, but in the end, she obliged. She was excited to meet my precious blonde girls.

Felicity:

There's one more thing that happened before our first date went down. This was especially important to me. Oliver and I had reached a compromise regarding my position at QC. I couldn't argue with him that I was the most qualified and most intelligent person for the job, so I agreed to stay on. (In my humble opinion, QC's IT department needed an overhaul.) But he also couldn't argue with me that he couldn't justify my promotion at the expense of his integrity and my reputation. He certainly didn't want to throw me into the lion's den, so to speak, so he listened to reason and agreed to promote me as Senior IT Consultant, instead of taking Garber's place as Senior Supervisor of the department. That way, I could call some shots and still make an impact on the company, and get the pay hike he said I deserved, without having to report to the office on a daily basis and brush elbows with other employees who still doubted my abilities and his intentions. Best of all, I had my own time in my own hands, and I'd still have time for my Emily. Both Oliver and I were satisfied with this arrangement.

Oliver:

The Friday we told the kids about us, I had asked Felicity if she'd like to go to dinner with me the following night. Stephen and I were walking her and Emily back to their apartment. There was a gentle breeze, and the autumn leaves were falling on the pavement as it blew. She stopped walking and tucked some blonde strands behind her ear. Then she replied in her usual sweet voice, "I thought you'd never ask." So, it was set. I was so confident she would say yes. I wouldn't take any other answer, especially because I had already made the reservations at the Grand Plaza Hotel restaurant days ago.

I knocked on the door of her apartment ten minutes earlier than the time we had agreed upon. I was fidgeting, straightening my tie, tinkering with my cuff links, stretching my neck and shoulder muscles, rubbing my thumbs against my knuckles again. "What's taking her so long to open the door?" I thought to myself. "She's probably not ready yet. Maybe I came way too early. What was I thinking? The evening hasn't even started and I'm already messing it up. I should have called first... Wait... I'm the one babbling now." I had been rambling in my head. I smiled and thought, "I'm really crazy about her."

"Relax, Ollie," Thea ordered, noticing how nervous and uptight I was.

"Yeah, Dad," Stephen joined in. "It's not like she doesn't like you already." The three of us laughed at Stephen's comment.

And just as we were laughing, the door swung open. "Good evening," Felicity greeted with a smile.

Standing right in front of us was... I had no words to describe her then. Now, I do. She was astounding in every way. She had straightened her shiny, smooth blonde hair, which cascaded down her wonderfully chiseled shoulders to her bare upper chest. Her hair parted on one side, a glistening rhinestud clip holding it perfectly, while her silky blonde drapes partly covered her cheek on the other side. Her exquisite slender frame was perfectly sheathed in a fabulous emerald green evening gown that hugged at her torso and then flowed down from her hips down to the floor. It was elegant, but modest. And her face... oh... she was an angel. Her beautiful face didn't need the help of cosmetics, but she put on some, just the right amount to bring out her naturally attractive features in the evening light. I was totally awestruck. I couldn't speak.

"Hi! You must be Felicity. My name is Thea. I'm Oliver's sister." Thea took it upon herself to do the introductions, since I had still been in a daze.

"Oh! Hi, Thea! It's so nice to meet you. Oliver's told me so much about you."

"And about you, too," Thea replied. "Apparently, you're the remarkable girl that has managed to cast a magical spell on my big brother. Seems to me he can't quite snap out of it. I mean, look at him!" The two ladies laughed.

Stephen nudged me with his elbow. "Dad!"

My son's elbow brought me back to reality. "Good evening, Felicity," was all that came out of my mouth.

Felicity let us in. She and Thea went over some instructions about childcare and about what were and were not allowed for the night, and before long, we were off to our first date in the limo with Diggle driving.

Diggle stopped the car in front of the lobby of the Grand Plaza Hotel, which was home to one of the finest restaurants in Starling City. He hadn't opened the car door yet when I began to notice lights flashing just outside our windows. "Argh! Why didn't I think of this?" I said in a tone of voice that Felicity sensed was a sign that I was upset.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The press," I retorted. "Someone from the restaurant must have tipped them off after I made the reservations.

"Now don't get all upset over this. You've had years of practice handling the press. What makes this time so different?" she asked again.

"You."

"What do you mean?" she asked the third time.

"I'm committed to you, and I don't want you to get hurt," I told her quite frankly.

"Oliver Queen, I so appreciate what you just said." She planted a light kiss on my cheek. "Come on, let's do this," she said.

Felicity was being brave, taking up the challenge of facing the press and the public. I took her hand and pulled her gently out of the car. Calmly, yet quite quickly, I led her into the hotel... in full view of everyone. Several reporters came up to me asking me questions about who she was and why we were in the hotel that evening. I simply greeted them and said that I wasn't willing to comment or to be interviewed. I told them that I would really appreciate it if they could give me and "this lovely lady" some privacy. Felicity was calm and confident, especially since I kept my arm around her waist the whole time. By the time we reached the restaurant at the end of the hallway, the press had given up and reporters walked away one by one.

Felicity:

"Queen. Party of two," Oliver said to the head waiter. The man in the black and white uniform led us to our table, which was right across a white grand piano near the stage. As soon as we were seated, the man gave us menus and we started going through them. Oliver ordered red wine for both of us.

"How did you know I preferred red wine over champagne?" I asked in amazement.

"I didn't. Lucky guess, I guess," he smirked.

The waiter came back, bringing the wine. He took our orders and then disappeared again. I had noticed by this time that more and more people were looking at us from time to time, more like stealing glances and then talking in hushed voices. They were more cultured people from high society, but they were just like the QC employees who couldn't mind their own business for their own good. But because Oliver and I had already talked about this after our big fight – how the public would react once they start seeing us together – I was more than ready to take them on.

When the waiter came back with our dinner, I asked, "Is someone gonna be playing music this evening?"

"Yes, mam," the waiter replied. "Mr. Osborne is just about ready to come out to play on the keyboard. He's in town for his Fall tour, and the Plaza booked him every night this week."

"Did you say Osborne? As in David Osborne?" I was about to freak out.

"Yes, mam. The David Osborne."

"No way!" I exclaimed with excitement. Several heads turned towards the direction of our table. But when I had composed myself, they went back to their private conversations and fine dining. "Oliver, was this another of your surprises? How did you know I'm a big fan of David Osborne? Did you know he was in town?"

"Whoa, whoa... slow down, Felicity," Oliver said. "I didn't know. I'm as surprised as you are."

"Wow! Well, this was meant to be. Do you know that David Osborne is my favorite pianist of all time? He's sooooo good! Growing up in Vegas, and, you know, with my mom having been a cocktail waitress at Caesar's, I heard him play almost every other day. My mom would pick me up after school before she clocked in for work and leave me in the locker room to do my homework coz my dad had to work two jobs. I'd sneak out to the dining place where the grand piano was – it looked exactly like this one here – and just listen to him play. One set at a time. In fact, by the time I was in high school, David and I had become very good friends. I had bought all his CDs and had him autograph every single one! Oh, I can't wait to see him play tonight!"

Oliver could see how thrilled I was. He was very glad he took me to the Plaza that night instead of somewhere else. He knew he had scored points. Big time.

We started dining, and by the time we were enjoying our main course, David Osborne appeared and took his place on the piano. He hadn't noticed me yet, because Oliver was blocking my view of him. He started out playing hits from the 50s and the 60s, which, despite my age, I had learned to appreciate, thanks to his skillful musicianship. Soon he moved on to favorite love songs from the 70s to the 90s. At that moment, an idea popped into my head. I asked the waiter for a pencil and a piece of paper. I knew David would take requests from the audience; he always did. I wrote down the title of my favorite medley of his, signed my name, and then signaled the waiter to hand the piece of paper to him.

Just as we had finished dessert, David Osborne stood up and went to the stage. Taking the microphone, he made an announcement. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Starling City! I trust you've been enjoying the music tonight?" A thunderous applause reverberated as the answer to his question. "Great! Well, I'm just about ready to play my last song for this first set, and then I'll have to take a break. But before I do that, I'd like to call on a very good friend of mine from Las Vegas. She's here tonight, and she has requested that I play her favorite medley... as we sit back and enjoy listening to her beautiful singing voice. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome... Ms. Felicity Smoak!"

You wouldn't believe the look on Oliver's face! To this day I still laugh each time I remember that moment and picture the expression on his face. He grew pale. His eyes bulged. His eyebrows shot up to his forehead. His jaw dropped so low I could aim and shoot the crouton on my salad into his mouth!

As I stood up to take my place beside the piano, I bent over to him and whispered in his ear, "Surprise!"

Oliver:

"Felicity can sing?" I racked my brain with that question. Not once have I heard her sing a song. Hum a tune, yes. But sing? I was in a state of shock. I watched my gorgeous date glide across the dance floor and mount the bar stool beside the grand piano. The shock of her singing had compounded my being love struck earlier in her apartment. This was too much for one man in one night!

David Osborne started to play the introduction. The music began to soothe and calm my nerves. And then Felicity sang.

"Don't go changing, to try and please me.

You never let me down before. Ooo..."

Just two lines out, and I had decided. "She is sooo good!" Her voice was smooth as honey, and the emotion that went with it came from her soul.

"I would not leave you in times of trouble.

We never could have come this far. Ooo...

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times.

I'll take you just the way you are."

She was singing Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are," which I had only heard from my parents' old CDs when I was young. It took until the last lines of the first verse before I realized that she had intentionally picked the song for me... for us. My nerves were even calmer now, but my heart was beating faster in pure delight. When Felicity got to the last verse, she turned to look at me. She held my gaze as she sang –

"I said I love you, and that's forever,

And this I promise from my heart. Ooo...

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are."

That did it. My heart melted. My knees turned to jello. Her surprise was a thousand and one times better than mine!

And then the music picked up to a more rhythmic feel, as Osborne segued into the Bruno Mars hit with the same title. Felicity just nailed it! I don't care what others say... I'm signing her up for The Voice! She could be the next American Idol, for all I care!

She had gotten down from the bar stool and started to move around the piano, carrying the mic. She mildly moved her shoulders, snapped her fingers to the beat, and lightly swayed as she sang. She was having fun, but she kept her poise and elegant demeanor. Everyone in the restaurant of the Plazawas loving her! People had stopped dining and chatting for a while to watch her superb performance. Even people who were passing by on the hallway to the lobby had taken the detour into the restaurant, intrigued by the sound of her voice. I, on the other hand, was the happiest person in the room. I was beaming with joy and pride!

When she reached her final chorus, she did something to cap the most delightful evening in my life. She walked towards me in step with the music and stopped in front of me. She placed her hand at the back of my neck, and sang as she looked into my eyes –

"When I see you face, there's not a thing that I would change

Coz you're amazing just the way you are.

And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while

Coz you're amazing just the way you are.

The way you are, the way you are

You're amazing... just the way you are."

Osborne's music slowed down just as she sang the last few lines. And as the music died down, Felicity slid her hand from my neck to my face, rubbing her thumb on my stubble. And then she mouthed a soundless "I love you," from her smiling lips.

I was oblivious to the deafening roar and applause of her captive audience. I was too overwhelmed by the moment. I placed my hand on the hand she placed on my face, nuzzled my cheek in her palm for a while, and then planted a sweet kiss on her hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for Ms. Felicity Smoak!" David Osborne prompted the audience for another round of applause.

Felicity returned to her seat in front of me and placed her hand on the table. I reached forward and grabbed her hand in mine. "I didn't know you could do that," I said. "You never asked," she remarked with a grin. "David and I worked on that medley so many times over in between his sets back at Caesar's. I never thought it would come in handy one day," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

I squeezed her hand as I reciprocated what she had said when she finished her song. "I love you," I said. 

She squeezed back and said with a breathtaking smile, "I know... And now, everybody knows, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the way the tables are turned and Felicity is the one surprising Oliver this time, but pleasantly. What did you think of their first date?
> 
> Disclaimer: The words and music of both songs "Just The Way You Are" are not mine. They belong to Billy Joel and Bruno Mars. No copyright infringement intended.


	9. The Queen Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira finds out about her son's new girlfriend and is not very happy that she seems to be the last one to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is told entirely from Stephen's point of view.

Stephen:

I woke up early the next morning even before my alarm clock was set to ring for the day. I ran straight to my dad's room to see if he was already awake. He had promised the night before that he would tell me how his first date with Felicity went, and I was so excited to hear about it.

You see, by the time Dad and Felicity arrived at the apartment after their date, Emily had already fallen asleep on Aunt Thea's lap in the living room couch. I and Aunt Thea, on the other hand, had kept myself awake by watching five episodes of The Flash reruns.

"We're back," Dad said as he and Felicity came through the door.

"Shh… we don't want to wake this little angel," Aunt Thea said, with her pointer finger on her lips.

I sprang from the couch to hug my dad. With my arms still wrapped around his waist, I looked up to see his brightly smiling face. "How did it go, Dad?" I asked.

"Let's just say it has been the most delightful evening in my life," he replied. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

I begged my dad twice to tell me all about 'the most delightful evening of his life,' but he insisted that it will have to wait until morning because Emily was fast asleep and Felicity needed to tuck her into bed, so we had to get going.

I looked at Felicity, who was standing about a foot away from my dad. She was so beautiful, even more beautiful now that her face was glowing with happiness. She was perfect for my dad. I wanted her to be my new mom so badly, and I wanted to tell her so. But for some reason, I couldn't find the right words to say what was in my heart. I let go of my dad, reached for one of her hands, and tugged lightly, signaling her to come forward and bend down to my level. Sensing what I had wanted her to do, Felicity knelt down in front of me and my dad and held both my hands in her soft ones. Her smile grew wider and her eyebrows lifted, cueing me in that she was going to pay attention to whatever it was that I had to say to her. I didn't care if I was going to mess up her make-up or her hair. I kissed her cheek and then threw my arms around her neck, pulling her close to a tight hug. Felicity's arms were around me in an instant. For the first time in three years, I felt a mother's embrace once again, and it felt so… good. (I know boys aren't supposed to cry. But, hey! Can you blame me?)

When I opened the door to my dad's room that morning, I saw his empty bed. And then, I heard the shower in his bathroom running. I figured it would take him a while, so I decided to go to the kitchen and have breakfast.

When I got there, my grandmother Moira was already seated on one of the bar stools of the long marble top kitchen counter where we had breakfast every morning if we didn't have guests staying over. She was already having coffee while reading the morning paper, as always. Every morning, she'd be the first one awake, the first one in the kitchen, ready to greet everyone else. She'd already done her hair and put on day make-up long before anyone else in our humungous house had showered, exercised, or started brewing coffee.

"Oh, good morning, Stephen!" Grandma greeted.

"Good morning, Grandma," I greeted back as I climbed up the bar stool beside her.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked.

"Ham and eggs, please," I answered. Grandma called for Lucia and ordered her to make me breakfast as requested. While waiting for my meal, I looked at my grandmother as she sipped her coffee and scanned through the first few pages of the Starling City Daily News.

I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like my grandma. She was dignified, not just in the way she carried herself, but more so in her actions and in the tone of her voice. She commanded respect from all of us, and she is used to having her way… always. For Moira Queen, everything had to be under control. Her control. Still, although she was more of the serious and strict type of woman, who always minded her manners and made sure the rest of us did as well, she had her sweet moments too. She would sometimes give me presents even if there wasn't any occasion. Sometimes she'd sneak up behind me and give me a hug, calling me all sorts of pet names that I never really told her I disliked. Somehow I knew Grandma loved me, but it had always felt like she was holding something back, which I couldn't quite figure out then.

I didn't realize I was staring at her until I saw her flip to the lifestyle and society page of the Sunday paper, as a frown began to form slowly but surely on her now stern face. Just then, my dad walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning! Isn't it a wonderful day?" he cheerfully exclaimed.

"Morning, Dad," I greeted.

"Well… good morning, Ollie. I trust you slept well… after such an eventful and controversial evening," Grandma greeted and remarked with a strange look on her face.

"Uh-oh, I sense trouble," I thought to myself.

My dad sensed it too. The cheerful glow on his face quickly disappeared. He cleared his throat and stretched his neck and shoulders before he spoke. "I see you've been reading the papers."

"As a matter of fact, I have," Grandma said. "I see you and your charming date managed to draw the attention of Starling's elite at the Plaza last night. Congratulations," she said with one eyebrow slightly lifted as a hint of disapproval.

"Mother, I can assure you, that was not our intention. Someone from the restaurant must have tipped off the press when I made the reservation. The reporters didn't get any comment from me, and they all walked away as soon as we entered the lobby. Someone from the hotel staff or any one of the guests dining in the restaurant must have leaked out information."

"I understand," she replied. "How could the press not notice when my handsome son, the city's most eligible widower takes another beautiful woman out on a dinner date… at the Grand Plaza of all places? I just feel bad that everyone else in Starling learned about your new girlfriend before your own mother did."

Ouch! "That must have stung, Dad," I told my dad with just the look in my eyes. I kept my fingers crossed, hoping that somehow Dad could wiggle his way out of this conversation that was becoming more and more tense as the seconds ticked by. Lucia came in with my breakfast and I started digging in, pretending not to care.

"I didn't mean for it to happen that way, Mom. I was going to introduce her to you this Thanksgiving. I didn't think the press would beat me to it though," Dad explained. "Her name is Felicity. Felicity Smoak. Stephen and I met her and her three-year-old daughter in the park, and we became… friends… very good friends… over the summer. And yes, she is my girlfriend." As he talked about Felicity, the expression on his face changed. His eyes began to glisten and the shadow that covered his face began to lift.

"I see." Grandma put down the paper on the kitchen counter and looked straight at my dad. "A beautiful singing blonde from Vegas… Hmm… I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to date a showgirl. What in the world were you thinking, Oliver?!" Grandma wasn't shouting, but she spoke with a sharp, forceful voice and eyes that could stab like a dagger. I could feel my dad's heartbeat from a few feet away. His face reddened with anger.

"Mom! You're unbelievable! You don't even know the first thing about her." Dad began to yell. But after heaving a deep sigh, he tried to compose himself. He lowered his voice out of respect as he continued, "Felicity Megan Smoak graduated from MIT at the top of her class. She's the best there is in the field of information technology, and she's an asset to QC. She's a remarkable person and a loving, caring mother… and she means the world to me. And I'm asking… as your son… that you please give her a chance before you go judging her based on first impressions and second-hand information."

"Way to go, Dad," I cheered in my mind as I gulped down half a glass of milk.

Grandma was silent for a few seconds, her hands balled into fists on the marble-top counter. She lowered her gaze, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as she grit her teeth. She then looked up to face my dad again. "All right, Oliver. I'm willing to meet this… this remarkable Felicity Smoak. Invite her and her daughter over for dinner Sunday evening before Thanksgiving."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," Dad replied. He had successfully controlled his temper, and he had convinced Grandma to at least get to know Felicity.

At that moment, Aunt Thea walked into the kitchen and caught her mother and brother staring at each other. Immediately, her radar picked up the tension in the room. "I was going to say 'good morning,' but I guess the situation doesn't exactly call for it." She walked passed my dad, tapped him twice on the shoulder, and took the next empty bar stool at the kitchen counter.

The rest of breakfast time wasn't the least bit appetizing. Grandma was indifferent. She sipped the rest of her coffee and skipped her meal entirely. She went back to her room and stayed there for the rest of the morning.

When Grandma left, Aunt Thea asked my dad what happened. He just pointed her to the direction of the newspaper and said, "Lifestyle page." Aunt Thea put a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and flipped to the said page. She took just one look at the byline and the photograph of my dad and Felicity in the restaurant, and she got all the answers to the questions she hadn't even asked yet. She bit her lower lip, and then turned to my dad with a grin. "Don't worry, Ollie. Everything's gonna work out fine. If she's the one, then she's the one," she said with a comforting tone.

As soon as my dad finished his breakfast, he said to me, "Finish up, Stephen. We're going to church."

"Church?" Aunt Thea asked, puzzled at what my dad had just said. "Ollie, you haven't gone to church since-"

"Since Mom's funeral," I cut in.

"I know, I know. But we're going today." My dad just smirked at us. But when he saw the puzzled look on our faces, he began to give an explanation. "Last night on our date, Felicity surprised me by singing a terrific medley. Turns out the guest pianist at the Plaza was a friend of hers from Vegas. You should have heard her sing! I mean, she's better than… than… she's better than anyone I've ever heard! Anyway, on our way back to the apartment, I asked Felicity when I could hear her sing again. So, she invited me to church today. She's singing a solo part for the choir's song number. I thought I'd bring Stephen along. Would you like to join us, Thea?"

"That's great! You and Stephen go. I'd love to come along, but my friend Roy is coming over and we have a lot of catching up to do since I left for London," said Aunt Thea.

"Then I'll see you later," Dad said. "Come on, Stephen. We don't wanna be late for church!"

But we were. The church was in a busy part of the city and did not have basement parking, nor was parallel parking allowed along the street in front of the church. And since Dad hadn't been to this church for a long time, he had forgotten where the nearest pay parking area was. We spent twenty minutes circling three blocks trying to find parking space.

By the time we entered the sanctuary and settled into the second to the last pew, the pianist had already begun playing the introduction to the choir's song. Felicity was in front of the choir, behind a microphone, wearing a robe that matched the choir gowns worn by the singers behind her. She sang the solo part of the choral arrangement for the gospel song "His Eye is on the Sparrow," as the choir hummed their heavenly harmonies in the background. My dad was right. Felicity's voice was out of this world! Her singing was soulful and sincere. The melody floated from her lips to our ears like fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky. Her song echoed across the room and high up to the vaulted ceiling of the building. It was just so amazing!

I looked at my dad as Felicity sang. His face was peaceful. His body was relaxed. And he wasn't doing that thing with his fingers when he was uptight or nervous. It was as if his argument with Grandma earlier this morning never happened. He gazed at her from the beginning to the end of the song. As Felicity hit the final high note, the congregation – which, of course, included Dad and me – clapped in appreciation.

Less than an hour later, the service ended. As people started emptying the pews and headed for the front doors of the church, Dad and I met Felicity and Emily halfway down the middle aisle in the sanctuary. Felicity had removed her robe and was now just wearing a simple, knee-length, sleeveless, pink dress. Emily was right beside her.

"Hi! Glad you came!" Felicity said as she tiptoed and kissed Dad lightly on his cheek.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world! Dad was right. You have an amazing voice, Felicity!" I remarked. Dad just grinned and chuckled as he rubbed the back of my head.

"Well thank you, Stephen," Felicity replied. "You sure know how to give a lady a compliment."

At that moment, the Reverend came up from behind Felicity. "Felicity, my dear, thank you so much for singing today," he said.

Felicity turned around and saw the Reverend. "Oh, hello, Reverend! It was my pleasure. Ask me again," she said. She then realized that she needed to introduce the pastor to Dad and me, so she added, "Rev. Olsen, I'd like you to meet Mr. Oliv-"

"Oliver, what a pleasant surprise! I haven't seen you here since…" Rev. Olsen wasn't able to finish his sentence.

"You two already know each other?" Felicity asked in astonishment.

"Uhm, yes. I used to come here… almost every Sunday… growing up," my dad began to explain in fragments, with a slightly timid tone of voice. "But then I lost my way and drifted… Let's just say I didn't think I was cut out for church when I started fooling around. Next time I set foot in here was… the day I wed Laurel." He paused and swallowed what seemed to be a lump in his throat. Felicity sensed that Dad's explanation was bringing back sad memories, so she slipped her hand into his and held it tight. He continued, "Laurel, Stephen, and I came here every so often. But when she passed… it's just… it's just been so hard to-"

"I'm just really glad to see you again today, Oliver," Rev. Olsen said with a reassuring tone, trying to rescue the conversation. "I hope to be seeing you here more often… with Ms. Smoak, I hope?"

Dad nodded with a small smile at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, that would be good," he replied.

"How is Moira? I hope your mother is well?" Rev. Olsen asked.

"Oh, she is. She still has that book you gave her when my father died. The one about coping with grief, was it? That book really helped her a lot," Dad answered.

"Good. Did it help you?" the Reverend asked again.

When my dad was unable to answer his question, Rev. Olsen realized he had struck a sensitive cord in my dad's heart. So he apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I hope I wasn't way out of line. Anyways, it's good to see you, and you too, Stephen. I'm sorry if I took too much of your time. You should probably get going."

"Thank you, Reverend," Felicity said. She and Dad shook Rev. Olsen's hand, and then the pastor walked away to speak to other churchgoers who were leaving.

As the four of us walked down the aisle towards the front doors of the church, my dad spoke. "Speaking of my mother, she's inviting you and Emily for Thanksgiving dinner. Actually, it's the Sunday evening before Thanksgiving. Are you up to it?" he asked Felicity.

"Your Mom's inviting us?" she asked in return.

"Yeah, she is. She'd like to meet you and Emily," he replied. And then he added with an endearing smile, "I'd like you to meet her."

"Oh… okay," she said. "But Thanksgiving is still a month away. Why the early warning?"

My dad had a sheepish grin on his face. He just scratched the side of his head and didn't really answer her question.

"Oliver, I've only heard you talk about your mother a few times. I think you need to tell me more about her. So I could be ready to meet 'the Queen mother,' you know."

"You sound like you're meeting the Queen of England," he remarked.

"That's because I feel like I'm meeting the Queen of England!" Felicity said. "Oliver, you know what I mean. I want to put my best foot forward. I mean, I'll be meeting Moira Queen for the first time! I don't want it to be a disaster. You know how I can get when I start to babble and say all sorts of awkward things. I might embarrass you."

"You won't embarrass me. Haven't I told you a few times before that I find your awkward babbling cute and amusing? You'll do just fine," Dad said.

At that moment, I wished my dad had told Felicity more about my grandmother. She needed to know. She needed to know that she was about to be grilled, roasted, and fried. She deserved to know what she was getting into. As we exited the church and started to stroll down the sidewalk to the parking lot a block away, I tugged at my dad's arm and whispered to him, "Don't you think you ought to tell her what to expect about Grandma?"

Dad's reply was a bit disappointing. "Don't worry, Stephen. Everything's gonna be fine. Your grandmother's gonna love her." 

I sure hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other important and interesting things are going to happen before that Thanksgiving dinner happens, so we won't see Felicity meet Moira just yet in the next chapter. What's up next, though, will shed more light on Felicity's back story as a single parent. 
> 
> What do you think of the story so far? How do you think the first meeting of Felicity and Moira will turn out?


	10. The Weekend in Vegas (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver goes to Vegas on a business trip and invites Felicity and Emily to spend the weekend with him in her hometown. He meets her folks for the first time, and then an unexpected coincidence lets him learn more about the past she fled from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is told entirely from Emily's point of view.

That Tuesday after the Sunday when all four of us were in church, Mom got a call from Oliver. She was doing some work for QC on her laptop while she was busy making lunch. She had just sent an email to the IT department when the bell rang for the timer she had set for the chicken baking in the oven. At exactly the same time, her phone rang. She put the phone on speaker mode and dashed to take the chicken out of the oven.

"Hey! Miss me?" Oliver asked with a level of excitement that was all too evident in his voice.

"Why would I miss you? We just saw each other Sunday," Mom teased. She giggled as she skipped towards the kitchen counter, almost dropping the chicken in the process. It's been fun watching my mom each time Oliver's name was spoken, or her phone rang and she'd look to see his name and photo flashing on the screen. She would behave like a little girl who had just been given a treat. In fact, in many ways, she acted a lot like me.

"Aw! That's too bad. Coz I miss my Felicity every minute, every hour, every day," Oliver responded.

"That's so sweet," Mom remarked. "But Mr. Queen, sir, I'm working right now, so if you're not calling about business, I'm afraid I'll have to put you on hold."

"Fe-li-ci-ty," he spoke my mom's name one syllable at a time.

"Hey, that's not fair! You know I can't win when you start saying my name that way," she retorted.

"Okay, okay. You don't have to say you miss me too… even if you really do," he said as he chortled. "But I did call about business."

"I'm listening, sir," Mom said with a more formal tone of voice.

"How would you like to go down to Vegas for the weekend? You and Emily. With me. And Diggle."

"I thought you said this was business? Sounds like a vacation."

"It is business. The Board of QC would like me to look into a potential partnership with another multi-million-dollar company based in Las Vegas. They'd like to consider putting up a subsidiary over there. A meeting's been set up Friday afternoon."

"So what would I be doing if I were to come with you?"

"I thought it would be wise to have you inspect the company's computer systems and see if they're compatible with our own. You know, so that if the deal pushes through, the transition would be better facilitated, and communications with a subsidiary there would go more smoothly."

"And Emily?"

"Well, I thought you two might want to visit your folks while we're there… make the most of the free ride aboard QC's private jet."

"Sounds wonderful! We haven't been home since we moved to Starling. No matter how hard I've worked on our budget, there hasn't been much saved enough to buy us both roundtrip tickets to visit my parents. Thank you for this opportunity. Emily will be so excited to see her grandparents!"

"Will you be excited for me to meet your parents?" Oliver asked. The tone of his voice clearly showed that he was expecting an honest answer from my mom.

"Of course! That'd be great! I've been telling my folks about you, you know. I've been wondering how I could get you to meet them. This is just perfect! We can have Friday night dinner with my parents, and then sightsee all day Saturday. I'll be your tour guide. I'll take you to the best places, show you where I went to school, where I was born and gave birth to Emily. Oh, you and Diggle are gonna love Vegas!"

Oliver didn't interrupt my mom's rambling. When she was finished, he said, "All right then, we're set. Diggle and I will pick you up at 7:00 Friday morning. If we leave at 8:00, we'll be in Vegas in about an hour or less."

After a few more affectionate exchanges of endearment, the two lovebirds hung up. Mom didn't have to explain the details to me. I understood two things from their conversation. One, I'd be tagging along on their business trip to Vegas, and two, I'd be seeing my grandparents for the first time since we moved away. I was thrilled!

That Friday morning, Mr. Diggle and Oliver picked us up at 7:00 sharp and after about an hour's drive through morning traffic, we reached the private air strip where the QC jet was. As soon as we boarded and got settled in, the flight crew told us that we were taking off in a few minutes.

The flight took almost an hour, but I didn't mind. Mom, Oliver, and Mr. Diggle talked the whole time, sometimes laughing at Oliver's corny jokes or at the funny stories Mom told about growing up in Vegas. I, on the other hand, enjoyed looking out the window and watching the clouds spread out like cotton candy against the powder blue sky. Down below I could see mountains, lakes, and rivers, but they seemed so small compared to when I see them on television. The plane ride was simply amazing! I couldn't compare it with my first flight out of Vegas because I was too little to remember.

When we landed at the Las Vegas airport, a black limousine was waiting for us. Mr. Diggle got behind the wheel and drove us to our hotel. As soon as we entered the city, my mom was on tour guide mode. She pointed to one building after another, one hotel and casino after another, so fast, that Oliver and I were more confused instead of amused at the sights of what many people called "Sin City." She would even insert short personal anecdotes whenever she remembered an experience she had in certain spots in the city. There was a story when she saw the phone booth where she got locked in; the alley where she almost got mugged when she was fifteen; the casino where she hit a twenty-thousand dollar jackpot that paid for a year of room and board at MIT on her senior year; and the diner near The Strip where she met her first boyfriend. It was fun listening to my mom's stories, but for Oliver, she was the one he found most entertaining of all.

When we reached the lobby of The Bellagio, I let go of my mom's hand and ran right into the middle of that huge… I mean, gigantic… space. My little eyes could hardly take in everything. I looked up at the multi-colored painted ceiling. I looked around, dumbfounded by the intricate designs of the walls, the mirrors that were taller than people, the flowers and plants that were elegantly arranged everywhere. There was piped in music that came from I don't know where. There were so many people… walking… to and fro. They were making me dizzy.

As I swirled around, I caught a glimpse of my mom talking with two people. She then pointed to me, and the two adults who looked much older than her started walking towards me. Their faces were so familiar, and I recognized them from the pictures back at our apartment. When they were already right in front of me, the older man and woman knelt down. They looked at me with caring, longing eyes. The woman extended her hand and said, "Emily?"

As soon as I heard her voice, I recognized them. "Grandma! Grandpa!" What followed was a really tight group hug. When the three of us finally let go, my grandmother had tears in her eyes. "I missed you so much, sweetie," she said. My grandfather picked me up and carried me back to my mom.

"I can't believe how big she is now," Grandpa said to my mom.

"Well, she's got your genes, Dad," Mom remarked, smiling.

"Thank goodness," Grandma commented. "I'm so glad there's hardly any trace of her father in her features. She looks just like you when you were our little darling," she told my mom.

Oliver and Mr. Diggle had finished checking in at the counter and were walking back towards our family. Oliver was smiling, but the fingers of both his hands were twitching. I could tell he was nervous.

"Oliver, come over here," Mom waved, motioning for him to join us. "I'd like you to meet my parents. I phoned them yesterday telling them which hotel we'd be in, and… here they are!" Oliver stood beside my mom and straightened his business suit. Mom clung to his left arm as she continued with the introductions. "Dad, Mom, this is Oliver Queen. Oliver, meet Edward and Donna Smoak, my wonderful parents."

"Good morning, Edward, Donna. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. You have raised such a remarkable daughter that I've been eager to meet you since… uhm… since we… uhm…" Oliver couldn't finish what he was saying. For a CEO, I had expected more from him. But the guy was obviously nervous about meeting my grandparents.

"Since we officially became a couple." Mom finished the sentence for him.

Grandpa managed a smile that didn't reach up to his eyes, but Grandma was not smiling at all. I wondered why. "Didn't they like Oliver? Who wouldn't like Oliver?" I thought to myself.

"It's good to meet you too, Mr. Queen," my grandfather responded, offering a handshake. Oliver reached for Grandpa's hand, and the two men squeezed each other's hands. The way they shook hands told a story. It was as if both men were studying each other.

My mom's eyeballs shifted from left to right, keenly observing the two men she held dearest in her life, like she was watching a tennis match. I saw her press her lips together, and I knew… she was starting to get nervous, too.

"So, what brings you to Vegas, Mr. Queen?" Grandpa asked.

"Business. Felicity is accompanying me to an important meeting this afternoon that could result into Queen Consolidated having a subsidiary here."

"Hmm. I guess, that's good… for your company, I mean," my grandpa said. "By the way, I can't thank you enough for the kindness you have shown my girls. Felicity told us, you not only gave her a job and a promotion; you also saved our dear Emily's life."

"You're welcome, but really, it was-"

"Now don't you say it was nothing. To simple folks like us, it means everything. We are grateful to you, Mr. Queen." Grandfather meant every word he said. He wasn't as brilliant and educated as my mom, and neither was my grandmother, but they were respectable people who worked hard to earn their keep. And he wanted Oliver to know that.

"Well," my grandmother began to speak when both men had run out of things to say to each other. "We won't keep you much longer. My shift as Caesar's starts in fifteen minutes, and I'm sure you folks would like to get settled in your rooms… or your suites, I presume. So we better go. We'll see you tonight for dinner at our house, right, Felicity?"

"Oh, yeah, right!" Mom replied. "We'll be there around seven."

After the goodbyes and the handshakes and the hugs, my grandparents left, and we checked in to our rooms, or should I say, our grand suite. Grandma was right. The suite had three large bedrooms. Oliver's room was right beside ours. Mr. Diggle's was right across Oliver's. At the center of the suite between the rooms was a spacious living room and study, with elegant carpets and furniture fit for a king or the President of the United States! The room my mom and I got was bigger than our apartment, I mean seriously! As soon as I saw the king-sized bed, I ran and climbed on top of it and started jumping up and down.

All four of us rested for the rest of the morning and met up at the hotel's restaurant for lunch. The food in that place was delicious. I couldn't believe we were allowed to get as much food as we wanted! And I didn't see my mom pay a single dollar. Vegas was fantastic! They had rooms bigger than apartments, with trampolines for beds, free food to last a lifetime, and cable TV that had twice as many channels as what we had back home.

Before lunch ended, Mom had a short, serious talk with me. "Emily," she began. "Oliver and Mom, we have a very important meeting with a very important person after lunch. I can't leave you in our room by yourself, so I'll have to take you with us. Now, it's very important that you be in your best behavior. Do you understand?"

"Uh-huh," I answered, nodding my head twice.

"I'm gonna set you up in a corner and let you play games on my tablet. Is that all right?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom. I'll be fine," I replied.

"That's my girl." Mom wiped my mouth clean and unbuckled me from the high chair. She set me down as she, Oliver, and Mr. Diggle stood up to leave the restaurant.

About thirty minutes later, we were in an elevator inside a very tall building. When the elevator dinged at the thirty-fifth floor, all four of us were met by an old, bald guy who introduced himself as a Mr. Judson. He led us to a large office with a comfortable lounge. A pretty secretary made us sit down and served the adults some coffee. Mr. Diggle stood in a corner behind the couch where Oliver sat. Mom took a chair and put it near the corner where Mr. Diggle was. She made me sit there and began to set up my gadget so I won't get bored.

Shortly after, I got settled in, and my mom sat beside Oliver on the comfy couch. She was looking for something in her purse when a tall, handsome man with dark hair, wearing an expensive suit, entered the office with his own bodyguard. I could tell by his looks that he was the boss in this place.

"Mr. Queen! I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. So good of you to fly all the way from Starling City to meet with me," the man greeted.

Oliver stood up instantly and walked up to the man to offer a handshake. "Good afternoon, Mr. Palmer! It's great to be here. I thought coming here in person would convince you to go through with the deal."

As soon as Mom heard the name Palmer, she looked up and gasped. All the color on her face faded faster than The Flash could run from here back to Starling. Something was seriously wrong. I saw panic all over her face. I was afraid she would faint.

Oliver looked from Mr. Palmer to my mom and said, "I'd like you to meet our Senior IT Consultant, Ms. Felicity Smoak. I hope you don't mind I brought her with me? I thought it would be a good idea for her to see how your IT department works so that any transition in the future, and all communications between our companies could go smoothly."

Mr. Palmer wasn't listening to Olive at all. He looked at my mother like he had seen a ghost. A hauntingly beautiful ghost of the past. After a brief pause (that obviously puzzled Oliver), the man replied with a naughty smile beginning to form on his face, "Oh, I definitely don't mind."

"Good," Oliver said. He walked towards Felicity and said, "Felicity Smoak, this is Mister-"

"Ray Palmer…" Mom spoke softly, almost in a trembling whisper.

Dead silence followed. Palmer stared at my mom with a mischievous smirk on his face. Mom stared back at him with a mixed expression of panic and disgust. This time, it was Oliver's eyeballs shifting from left to right, keenly observing the two of them, whom he had already figured out, had known each other before. Sweat began to appear on Oliver's temples. He scratched a fake itch at his nape, and then put his left hand in his pocket. After a while, he decided to break the awkward silence. "I guess… you two know each other?"

"Oh, yes. We certainly do," Mr. Palmer replied. "MIT. We graduated together in 09, and then worked together in the computer science division of Star Labs in Boston before Dr. Harrison Wells moved his headquarters to Central City. We were quite a team, Felicity and I."

Mom was still staring at him. Speechless. Oliver, on the other hand, didn't know how to react. One thing was sure: he was smart enough to figure out what I wasn't smart enough to figure out at that moment. Mr. Palmer was my father.

"Well, I guess we better sit down and start talking about the future of both our companies. That is reason why you two came all the way from Starling to see me, isn't it?" Mr. Palmer said.

Oliver wasn't new to this line of talk. He knew Mr. Palmer now had a hidden agenda – and it had absolutely nothing to do with their companies. Mr. Palmer was now bent on discovering what kind of relationship Oliver had with my mother.

Mr. Palmer sat down behind his huge desk. Oliver took the seat right across him, intentionally angling his seat so that he could have a clear view from Palmer on his right to the other end of the square-shaped office where my Mom, Mr. Diggle, and I were. Mom didn't take the other seat in front of Palmer's desk. After she checked on me, she whispered something to Mr. Diggle, and then returned to the couch in the lounge. That was when Mr. Palmer noticed me sitting in the corner, almost covered by Mr. Diggle, standing tall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Oliver's talk with Mr. Palmer lasted longer than expected, and it didn't take the genius of Einstein to figure out why. On the surface, the negotiations were about Queen Consolidated and Palmer Technologies. But now on hindsight, I understand that what the two grown men were really fighting over were not their company's best interests. They were fighting over my Mom. Two wealthy, powerful, influential men who had become a big part of my mother's life in recent years were in the same room at the same time, waging war for her heart. I was relieved I hadn't understood was what happening right then and there, coz if I had, I would've given them both a piece of my mind.

An hour later, both men stood up and shook hands in a civil manner. As they were trying to agree on their next scheduled video conferencing, my mom came to get me and pack away the gadget, getting ready to leave.

"Could we visit your IT department now?" Oliver told Mr. Palmer.

"Sure. Martin and I can take you there," Palmer replied, referring to his bodyguard.

Oliver motioned to Mr. Diggle, who immediately opened the door of the office, ready to let his boss out. Oliver walked out the door, followed by Mr. Diggle and then Mr. Martin, not noticing that Palmer wasn't following behind them.

Mr. Palmer went straight to me and my mom. "Felicity," he said, reaching out to touch my mom's arm as she stood up from a kneeling position. Mom brushed off his hand. It seemed she didn't want him touching her at all. "Felicity, I was wondering if you and I could talk while you're here."

"What is there to talk about?" Mom answered, not making eye contact. She was pretending to be busy putting my jacket on.

"Well, now that you're here… and she's here-"

"My daughter's name is Emily. Emily Smoak."

"Right. I was thinking… now that you and Emily are here… we could talk about-"

"Like I said… There's nothing… to talk about," Mom said with an even more firm tone of voice, this time, looking him straight in the eye. She clutched my arm, and for the first time ever, that gesture of hers hurt. She probably didn't realize she was holding on to me too tight. I looked up to her and saw her face burning with rage, holding back tears that were brimming in her eyes.

"But I just… Felicity, I'm her father!" Mr. Palmer began to shout and curse, and it scared me.

"Since when?!" Mom shouted back. "You were never in our lives, and now, just like that, you want in? You must be crazy!"

The yelling stopped instantly when the door opened. Oliver's eyes narrowed at what he saw. He grit his teeth as he tried to keep himself from blowing his temper. My mom had just wiped a tear off her cheek, as Mr. Palmer released a firm grip on her arm. They quickly pretended that nothing happened and walked away from each other. Oliver cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Palmer, I believe we can't do this tour without you and Ms. Smoak."

"Ah, yes. Forgive me," Mr. Palmer said as he walked briskly out the door without looking back.

Mom picked up her purse and my knapsack and took me by the hand. As she turned to walk towards the door, Oliver put a steady arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for an embrace. "Are you okay?" he asked tenderly. His concern was evident in his voice and actions.

"No, I'm not," Mom answered, trying to keep herself from breaking down. "I feel terrible."

"Can you still handle the tour of the IT department?" he asked.

"I think so. Just give me a minute," Mom replied. Oliver pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the tears on her face. And then he hugged her again. "Shh… I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you… or Emily."

"You don't know Ray," my mom began to speak. "He won't stop until he gets what he wants. And he always does. Not once did he show us that he cared. Now all of a sudden he's asking if he could be a part of our lives. Oliver, I'm scared."

"Don't be. Everything will be fine. I promise," Oliver said reassuringly.

"No, you don't get it. Ray doesn't care about us. This is… about you."

Oliver was shocked at what my mother had just said. He had just met the man. "What? Why is this about me?"

"I know how his mind works, Oliver. This is just some game to him. A game of conquests. He doesn't really care about us. He had already conquered me. Didn't you see? In just a short time, he had already figured out what we have. Now, all he wants to do is beat you… because you own my heart, and I own yours. His ego thrives on competition, the kind where he is the one who comes out the winner. And if I'm right about him, he won't stop until he gets… not just your company… but me and Emily, too."

"I won't let that happen," Oliver said.

"Oliver, I'm so sorry. Seems like… now it's my past that's catching up with me, and I'm dragging you down with me. I… I don't want you getting hurt because of me," my mom said.

Oliver planted a kiss on my mom's forehead. "As long as we have each other, we'll get through this… and every other obstacle that comes our way," he said.

I hoped, for all our sakes, that Oliver could keep that promise. Coz that was the day the obstacles started coming… one after another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know whether or not you liked Ray Palmer's role in the show. If you did, then bear with his character in this story for the next several chapters until conflicts are resolved in the ending. If you didn't, then enjoy how I've used him to spice up this story. Let me know what you think.


	11. The Weekend in Vegas (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity has dinner with her parents. Will first impressions matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait longer to post this because it's a continuation of the previous chapter. So, here it is. I hope those who have been following the story are happy. This chapter is still told from Emily's POV.

The tour of the IT department of Palmer Technologies took almost the rest of the afternoon. By the time it was done, my feet hurt. I was getting kind of cranky, so my mom requested Oliver and Mr. Diggle to bring us back to the hotel immediately after.

An hour ago, Mr. Palmer had to leave us with his assistant Mr. Judson, saying that he had other important matters to attend to. The goodbyes were very brief and formal, and I noticed that my mom did not shake his hand at all when he said goodbye to her. She had me standing behind her, shielding me from Mr. Palmer's view. At that time, I didn't understand what the fuss what about, but now I do.

When we got back to our hotel suite, Mom changed my clothes and put me to bed for a nap. She wanted me to be well rested so that I won't be crankier during our dinner with my grandparents later that night. She kicked off her heels and lay down beside me, still wearing her office clothes. She tapped at my thighs to lull me to sleep as she hummed a Disney tune.

"Mom," I began to ask, "why are you upset with Mr. Palmer?"

"Why do you think I'm upset with him?" She replied with another question.

"You were upset. I could tell."

"Emily, sweetheart, you see… Mr. Palmer and I were friends before you were born. But he did something bad, something that made Mommy really sad and angry."

"So he's not your friend anymore? What did he do?"

"Well, I think… you'd have to wait until you're a little older before I can answer that. But yes, Mr. Palmer and I are no longer friends."

"That's sad," I replied, half asleep. And then I dozed off…

At 6:30, Mr. Diggle, Oliver, Mom, and I were ready to head off to my grandparents' for dinner. We were dressed in comfortable casual clothes, coz mom said we didn't have to dress up for it. Mr. Diggle was driving in front, and I was sitting in the car seat in between Mom and Oliver. After the limo left the hotel driveway, Oliver started a conversation with my mom.

"Are you okay?" he asked my mom.

"I'm a bit better now. The late afternoon nap did me some good," Mom replied.

"That's good," Oliver said. "You know I'm here for you, right? If you want to talk?"

"Yeah, I know," Mom said with a smile. "We can talk about Palmer later. Right now, I'd rather talk about dinner… with my parents."

"So… what about dinner with your parents? Anything I should be ready for?" Oliver asked, grinning.

"First of all, don't be too fresh with my dad. No arms around shoulders. No high fives. No hugging. Dad prefers to be civil with a new acquaintance. Mom is a different story. She has a bubbly personality, and she likes to tease. You can actually give her a friendly hug… lots of it!" Mom explained.

"Really? She didn't strike me as the bubbly type when we met earlier today," Oliver remarked.

"Oh, that. Quite frankly, Mom's a bit apprehensive about you," Mom said, biting her lower lip and smiling with her eyes.

"Apprehensive? Why is that?"

"Oh, after what happened between me and Ray, she sort of started thinking that every guy that comes along is out to hurt me again. She's just being the overprotective lioness, watching over her cub." Mom winked at him.

"I see," Oliver nodded twice while folding his arms across his chest. "Then I guess, dinner is a make or break?"

"Yup! So put your best foot forward," Mom replied. "Oh, but don't overdo it. They'll see right through."

"Okay, if you say so."

"Oh, and one more thing. I'm almost sure my dad will ask you to say grace before the meal. That's sort of his initiation for every guy who came over for dinner… since I was old enough to be allowed to bring boy friends over."

"Say what?" Mom laughed at Oliver's question, just as Mr. Diggle pulled over and parked by the sidewalk in front of the house.

"We're here!" Mom exclaimed in excitement. "Emily, this is where Mom grew up." She couldn't wait for Mr. Diggle. Her car door flung open and she immediately bolted out of the car and ran to the front porch where Grandpa was waiting, sitting on a rocking chair. "Dad, we're here!"

Grandpa stood up and waved at us, and then he stretched out his arms, ready for Mom, who landed right into them into a nice warm hug. Oliver took my hand and walked me to the porch. As soon as Grandpa let go of Mom, he bent over to me and carried me in his arms. "Donna, Honey, they're here!" he yelled as he opened the front door for all of us.

The house where Mom lived with her family was very simple but neat and cozy. It was just big enough for the three of them and did not have a second floor. From the living room, you could already see the dining area, the entrance to the kitchen, and the small hallway that led to two separate bedrooms, a bathroom, and a study. There were pictures everywhere – of Grandpa and Grandma when they were young, of Mom when she was a baby, a little girl, and a teenager – hanging on the walls or displayed on tables and shelves. Grandpa showed me, Oliver, and Mr. Diggle the pictures of Mom one by one, beginning in the living room, on to the dining area, and finally, in the hallway. It was like a tour of the Smoak Family Museum!

The picture that I liked most was Mom's picture on her graduation day that hung on the wall above the fireplace. She was so beautiful! Her hair was up in her usual ponytail, and she was wearing pink-rimmed eyeglasses. She was wearing this really long black robe with a funny looking hat that had a short rope dangling on one side. She had the biggest smile. She was holding up a big round metal thing attached to a ribbon that was hanging around her neck (which I later learned was called a medal), and she was flashing the victory sign with the fingers of her other hand. I also liked one of the baby pictures on a shelf beside the television. At first, I thought it was a picture of me, but I had second thoughts because the photograph was quite old. "Me?" I asked Grandpa. "No, sweetie, that was your mother," he replied.

By the time we finished looking at all the pictures, I noticed that Oliver was not with us. I turned around and saw him standing in the hallway, in front of the door of my mom's old room.

Oliver was smiling, his trance-like gaze fixed on the picture of Mom hanging on the door. In the picture, which looked like it was taken on a beach on a sunny summer morning, Mom was wearing a white floor-length sleeveless gown made of lace and satin that complemented the shape of her slender form. Her chest was covered in lace that went all the way up, held by a beaded halter around her neck. She posed with her back against the camera, slightly pivoting to her left side, and showing the backless design of the gown that revealed the flawless, bare skin from her nape to the small of her back. She was carrying white satin high heels that matched her gown in her right hand. Her hair was loosely braided, falling over her right shoulder, while some curly locks came loose near the sides of her face, perhaps blown by the wind. She had the most winsome smile on her face, and she looked like she didn't have a care in this world. Whoever was holding the camera must have clicked the button just as she looked down over her left shoulder at a bouquet of daisies held by her left hand, and took a step with her bare feet on the sand. Oliver was taking it all in… with great delight and pleasure. He put both his hands in his pockets and sighed with satisfaction.

"I see you're admiring my favorite picture of my daughter," Grandpa remarked. Oliver hadn't noticed that my grandfather had been standing right behind him for quite some time.

"Oh… yes," Oliver said. "You have a very beautiful daughter… sir."

"I couldn't agree more. She's such an angel. She's a lot like her mother, you know, when Donna was her age. That picture was taken when Felicity was about twenty-two, after her cousin's wedding ceremony by the beach. She was the maid of honor. Of course, that was before she had Emily," Grandpa added. "And please… call me Edward."

Oliver smiled as his eyes met my Grandpa's. "Well, in my eyes, she is just as beautiful today as she was then," he said affectionately.

"Dinner's ready!" Grandma called out from the kitchen. Grandpa did not have a chance to respond to what Oliver had just said. "Come on, let's eat," was all he could say.

We all headed to the dining table. Donna had us seated according to her seat plan. She and Grandpa sat down, one on each end of the table. I was beside Mom. Oliver sat in front of her, and Mr. Diggle sat in front of me. And as surely as my mom predicted, Grandpa extended both his hands outward, palms up, and motioned for everyone to hold hands around the table. He then said, "Oliver, why don't you lead us in a thanksgiving prayer for this meal."

Oliver's eyes shifted from my grandpa's extended hand to my mom's smirking face. At her signal, he placed his hand in my grandpa's hand and said, "Uh… okay. Shall we say grace?"

He closed his eyes. I didn't. I knew this was new to Oliver, so I wanted to watch him struggle through a prayer, no matter how short it would turn out to be. He took a deep breath and began. "We… uhm… praise you, dear Lord, for this… for this… uhm… delicious meal that is set before us. Thank you for Donna's… hands… that prepared it for us…" He was getting better at it as he went further. "Thank you for this… wonderful family… and for their warm hospitality. Bless us as we partake of this meal… through Christ our Lord. Amen." As he opened his eyes, I wanted to clap my hands to appreciate his heartfelt effort.

"Thank you, Oliver. That was… pretty good," my grandpa complimented him.

Mom's face beamed with pride. She mouthed a mute, hardly noticeable "I love you" to him. Oliver followed suit.

Grandma's meatloaf was to die for, and the pesto pasta was yummy, just like the way Mom makes it. Almost the entire time, Grandma was quiet and reserved. She was trying her best to put on a smile as Grandpa played the good host and entertained us by telling stories and carrying on conversations with the guys. Everything seemed normal.

The rest of dinner time was pretty much uneventful… until Grandpa asked as we were finishing up dessert, "So Oliver, Felicity tells me you have a son?"

"Yes, he's turning nine in December. His name is Stephen, and he's a great kid! He has his mother's eyes," Oliver answered.

"Tell us about his mother, Oliver. I'm sure she must have been a real sweetheart, different from the usual girls," Grandma suddenly spoke as she turned towards Oliver with a disapproving and malicious – not curious – look on her face.

Oliver was stunned. He wasn't prepared for that. He wasn't ready to talk about his late wife in front of his girlfriend's parents. He picked up a napkin with his trembling hands and wiped his lips clean. "Uhm… Laurel, my wife… she passed away when Stephen was five. She… uh… she had cancer. We really miss her…" he struggled to explain. And then there was an awkward silence.

Mom looked at the love of her life with compassion and concern. Her heart ached for him. He didn't have to answer that. It was a cruel thing to ask of him. Her mother was out of line.

Oliver swallowed hard and said, "I'm sorry… I need to go to the bathroom. Please excuse me."

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, Grandma stood up and marched to the kitchen with the dirty dishes in hand. Mom balled her hands into fists, and with narrowed eyes and gritting teeth, she stormed into the kitchen after her mother.

"Oh no," I thought to myself, "Mom is really angry now."

"What was that all about, Mom?!" my mom yelled.

"What?" Grandma replied, pretending not to know what my mom was referring to.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about! How could you say something like that?"

"Something like what?"

We could hear their heated argument in the kitchen from the dining room. Mr. Diggle and I were feeling uneasy and embarrassed. I didn't know my mother had it in her to yell at anyone like that. Grandpa just sat there, his head hanging low.

"What possible and sane reason could you have to bring up something like that? Oliver's been through a lot. How could you be so insensitive! You don't even know him that well," Mom lashed out in anger.

"I don't have to!" Grandma yelled back. "I have all the information I need from the media."

"Oh, you mean the tabloids and gossip columns! I can't believe you would judge him based on those! He's different now, Mom. He's changed."

"You're not thinking straight, Felicity! How could you fall for someone who's had more trivial relationships before his college graduation than an average man could have in a lifetime? You'll just end up hurt and broken all over again!"

"You don't know that!"

Felicity, baby, men like Oliver Queen don't change. Once a playboy, always a playboy. Believe me, in my line of work, I've seen enough of that sort of men breaking the hearts of young, innocent girls like you. I can smell bad news a mile away. And for you, honey, Mr. Queen is bad news!"

"You are way out line, Mom!" my mom shouted as she walked out of the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Oliver standing behind my grandfather. He had just come back from the bathroom and heard what my grandmother had just said. Tears were beginning to stream down my mom's cheeks as her blue eyes locked on to his. The expression on both their faces revealed a surge of emotions that were sweeping over their tender, broken hearts – anger, shame, sadness, sympathy, pain. Mom sniffed and wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and then she ran past Oliver into her old room, the door slamming hard behind her.

"Well, Mr. Smoak, thank you for that delicious dinner. I'd better get back to the limo. Good evening, sir," said Mr. Diggle. "I'll wait outside, Mr. Queen."

Grandpa nodded to acknowledge him. As soon as Mr. Diggle stepped out of the house, my grandpa stood up and motioned for Oliver to join him in the living room. I stayed in my seat, still finishing up on my mint chocolate chip ice cream.

It was a small house, so I could pretty much hear everything that was going on. I could tell Grandma was mad, from the clanging and banging of the dishes and cookware in the kitchen. Mom too was clearly upset; I could hear the sound of her crying and sniffing inside her room. I could also overhear the conversation between my grandpa and Oliver in the living room.

"I'm sorry you had to see and hear all that, Oliver," Grandpa apologized. "My girls sure messed up what could have been a lovely evening."

"Apology accepted. I sure appreciate it, Edward," was Oliver's response.

"Donna is really a sweet woman, but she can sometimes be overprotective of our daughter, especially after she got pregnant out of wedlock," Grandpa explained. "I just feel bad that your first impression of my wife had to be like this. I hope next time you can see her 'better' side. Assuming there will be a next time?" Grandpa was hopeful for Oliver's positive response.

"There will be, don't worry about it. I can't judge your wife just because of what happened tonight. I just… I just hope you and Donna can give us… can give me a chance to show how much I care about Felicity. I can assure you… my intentions for your daughter are sincere."

"Give my wife some time. I'm sure she'll come around," Grandpa replied. "But you've got to promise me one thing… Don't you ever… don't ever do anything to hurt my angel, or I will make sure you spend the rest of your life regretting it."

"How can I ever do anything to intentionally hurt her? I love Felicity… with all my heart and soul. Edward, I promise you… on my honor… I will take good care of her and Emily. You have my word," was Oliver's sincere and steadfast response. I saw my grandfather tap Oliver's knee and squeeze it as a sign of appreciation and approval.

Things did not end well between Mom and Grandma that night. We left the Smoak house with heavy hearts. On our way back to The Bellagio, I had fallen asleep in the limo.

The next thing I knew, Oliver was laying me down on the bed of our suite. Mom removed my shoes, jacket, and pig tails, and then tucked me in. She didn't want to wake me anymore. What she didn't know was that I was quite awake.

"I sure am glad we made it past those reporters at the lobby," Oliver began to say.

"Yeah," Mom said softly. "We hadn't run into one ever since we got here. I thought we could make it in and out of Vegas without those nosey gossip maniacs finding out we're here. I had wanted to stay out a little longer and watch the dancing fountains outside… you know… just to relax."

"I know. It's been a long, tiring, crazy day," Oliver responded.

He walked over to the glass windows of the suite where my mom stood, looking out and observing the spectacular lights and sounds coming from the dancing fountains that made The Bellagio popular to tourists from all over the world. He took off her coat and placed it on a nearby couch. Then, he put his hands on my mom's shoulders and began to massage them. He rubbed circles with his forceful thumbs on her back and then up to the back of her neck.

"Oh… that feels so good," Mom groaned.

"Your muscles are tense," Oliver commented.

"It's been a really rough day," Mom replied.

"I know. Tomorrow will be a better day," he said reassuringly.

Mom swung around and threw her arms around Oliver's neck. He, in turn, wrapped his strong, sturdy arms around her waist and said with a teasing tone, "I didn't know you could be feisty when you're angry."

"Hmp! Let that be a warning, Mr. Queen, if you ever get any ideas about breaking my heart," Mom teased back. "You won't like me when I'm angry."

"Roger that, future Mrs. Queen," he said with a chuckle.

"How can you still think that after what my mother said about you? I'm beginning to think it's not gonna happen. I'd hate for her not to approve of us being together, let alone boycotting her daughter's own wedding. My family's all I have," Mom said, very discouraged.

"Hey, don't think like that. Your dad said she'll come around eventually," he said, trying to cheer her up.

"My dad told you that?"

"He did."

"Oh, Oliver… he likes you," Mom said, happiness slowly showing in sound of her voice. "I can't believe it! It usually takes my dad longer to like someone that I like." Mom's face was breaking out into an adorable smile.

"Well, I do hope so. After that man-to-man talk-"

"You two talked?"

"Yeah, while you were crying your heart out."

"Wow, that's a first! My dad never talks to guys about me. He must have seen something in you… Unbelievable…" Mom's voice trailed off, as she shifted her gaze to the dancing fountains outside, her waist still wrapped in his arms and his neck in hers. "But then again, I wouldn't expect any less from my dad. He's the more understanding one. He's compassionate, patient, and reasonable. He's not perfect, but he's an honorable man… much like you." She looked up at him and smiled affectionately. And then she continued, "My dad and I are so alike. He was the one who was deeply hurt when I… when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I guess… with just one good look into your eyes tonight, he was able to see what I see in you every day."

"And what is that?"

"Honesty. Honor. Genuine love and care."

Oliver pulled my mom closer until they were just inches apart. He gently stroked her back with his warm hands to comfort her. And then, he leaned in for a short but passionate kiss that literally swept her off her feet. He lifted her slightly, and then set her down as they came up for air. When he pulled back, she said to him, "Stay," perhaps forgetting that I was in the room with them.

"Felicity…" Oliver whispered as he cupped her face in his hands, "You mean the world to me… but you know I can't stay. Not like this. I love you too much to do anything foolish and risk what we have."

Mom smiled and then laughed mildly. "Right," she responded. "We can wait. We should. It will be more beautiful that way."

"Mm-hmm," he murmured sweetly.

Their heads rested on each other's foreheads, as they lingered in a loving embrace for minutes that seemed like hours, swaying to the faint music of the dancing fountains outside. I took one last look at them before I fell asleep. They seemed like they were the happiest couple on earth.

The next morning, I woke up before my mom did. I crawled over to her side of the bed and straddled on top of her on her belly. "Wake up, Mom! Wake up!" I said with excitement in my voice. I shook her face with my cold, tiny hands.

Mom opened her eyes and rubbed them before saying, "Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"

"Mom, get up! Let's go!" I remembered her telling me during yesterday's plane ride that we would go sight-seeing when their meetings were over.

"Okay, okay, Emily. But we've got to get ready first. Bath, then breakfast, then-" Mom was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Mom asked.

"It's Oliver."

"Okay, just a minute." My mom got up, washed her face quickly, and clipped her hair up in a bun. Then she put on her robe and opened the door.

"Good morning. Sorry I took so long," she said to him.

"No problem," he replied. "Listen, I know we had an entire day planned to go see places," Oliver said, his voice hinting that he was upset about something, "but I'm afraid we'll have to go back to QC a.s.a.p."

"What's wrong?" Mom asked.

"I got an early morning call from Walter Steele, one of the members of the Board. It's Palmer. Turns out, since yesterday he's been buying out shares from some of our investors who are more than eager to sell at twice the price. Looks like he's planning to earn himself a seat in the Board," was Oliver's worried answer.

"You can't let that happen," Mom said in an equally worried yet firm voice. "We have to go… now."


	12. Ray Palmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension mounts as threats come from Emily's biological father. Oliver and Felicity's relationship is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephen and Emily get back to telling the story together.

Stephen:

That Saturday morning, I was looking out the window of my bedroom. It had only been a day that Dad was away, but I had missed him already. Since my mother died, there was hardly a day that Dad wasn't around. Even on his business trips, he usually brought me and Diggle along. On this business trip to Vegas, he explained that he needed me to stay behind because he didn't want me to miss school. I didn't mind it at all, since he was able to convince Aunt Thea to take care of me while he would be away. Aunt Thea is the coolest aunt! Well, she's my only aunt.

I was leaning on the window sill with my elbows, my chin resting on the palms of my sweaty hands, when I saw the Queen family's limousine from afar, passing through the black iron gates that were the entrance to our large estate. I ran out of my room, yelling, "Aunt Thea! They're back!" I darted across the second floor hallway and sped down the huge stairs that led to the foyer. I was still panting when I opened the front door and waited for the limo to stop right in front of me.

As soon as Dad stepped out of the car, I rushed to give him a nice big hug. "Missed you, Dad," I said as I pressed my right cheek against his tummy. "I missed you, too, son," he replied. "Next time we go to Vegas, you're coming with us," he promised, as he ruffled my hair.

"Felicity and Emily aren't with you?" I asked.

"Diggle and I brought them home from the airport. They're tired and needed to rest," Dad replied.

Suddenly, a voice from behind me spoke, "You're back early. Something came up?" It was Aunt Thea.

"Long story," Dad replied. The three of us started to walk back into the foyer and then on to the living room. I turned on the TV but kept the volume low so that my dad and my aunt could talk.

"What happened, Ollie?" my aunt asked. Curiosity was written all over her face. She was seated on the same couch as my dad. She turned to her right side to face my dad as she hugged a throw pillow, waiting for his answer.

Dad sighed as he began to speak. "Of all the companies the QC Board wants me to strike a deal with… it has to be the one owned by Felicity's ex-boyfriend… Emily's father."

"No way…" Aunt Thea said slowly, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging loose in disbelief.

"Yes way."

"And which company is this?"

"Palmer Tech. The one based in Las Vegas," Dad clarified.

"Ray Palmer is Felicity's ex?" Aunt Thea was even more shocked.

"You know him?" Dad asked, surprised at his younger sister's reaction.

"I don't know him like… know him personally. I mean, I've read about him in some magazine article. Pretty impressive stuff… rags to riches kind of story. The guy's a genius. Graduated from MIT and then made a name for himself as an innovator in the field of computer technology. Rose from the ranks in no time, becoming owner and CEO of a company that he rescued from near bankruptcy."

"Looks like you know more about him than I do," my dad remarked.

Aunt Thea giggled. "I found his story interesting. And he's kinda cute, too!"

"I don't think you'd find him interesting and cute once you get to know him up close and personal. I haven't read up on the guy, but if you ask me, I've never met anyone more arrogant and egotistical than Ray Palmer. And after what he's done to Felicity…" Dad's voice trailed off as he shook his head in disdain.

"Ollie, I don't mean to poke my nose into your girlfriend's personal life. And you don't have to tell me if you're not up to it," Aunt Thea said, "but what exactly happened between him and Felicity?"

"They went to MIT at the same time and worked together at Star Labs for a while. She said she fell for him because of his looks, his charm, his brains, and his promises of them building an IT empire together."

Dad paused and shut his eyes. A crease began to form across his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, they were teary. He looked straight into Aunt Thea's eyes, like he was about to say something he deeply resented. "He took advantage of her, Thea. And by that, I don't mean just taking away her innocence, getting her pregnant, and then running away from his responsibility. You see, she was more brilliant than he was, or could ever be. He used her ideas to climb the corporate ladder while she was forced to the sidelines to watch him succeed all by himself. He robbed her of her dreams, her future, and her self-respect. In my book, that's unforgivable."

Aunt Thea didn't dare speak. She seemed amazed that her older brother was opening up to her, baring his heart in empathy for the woman he loved. She felt for him, and wondered how she could ease the pain he felt inside. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. Hard.

"Felicity is afraid of him," Dad continued. "She thinks he's going to stop at nothing to destroy me."

"You? Why is this about you?" Aunt Thea asked, puzzled.

"Palmer now knows about Felicity and me. She says he gets challenged by competition."

"Seems to me it's not really just about competition. Palmer's jealous… of you. Do you think he wants to get her back?"

"I don't think so. But whatever it is… it's going to be ugly. I just… I don't want him hurting Felicity ever again," Dad said in a firm voice, trying so hard to hold his anger in.

"Are you sure Palmer is really going to go out of his way just because he's challenged or jealous or something? I mean, what would he stand to gain? He's already filthy rich!"

"Well, for starters, Walter Steele tells me it's only been a day, but he's already managed to buy out the shares of Kirkland, Sheppard, and Grier. He's after QC, Thea."

"What?! Ray Palmer is nuts!"

"Couldn't agree with you more, Speedy," Dad responded. "That's the reason why we cut short our Vegas trip. I needed to come back and meet with Walter to figure out how we can keep Palmer from buying out more shares and maneuvering his way into the Board. He's good. He's convincing investors… some even good friends of Dad… by offering to buy their shares at twice their market value."

"You and Walter can stop him, Ollie. I believe in you," Aunt Thea said, trying to keep my dad from being discouraged. She then told him that she had to go some place, and after a warm, reassuring hug, Dad let her go.

My dad spent the rest of the day at QC doing 'damage control,' as he called it. I had convinced him to take me along, saying that he owed me for leaving me at home the day before. First, he met with Walter Steele and a couple of other Board members who were loyal to us, Queens. Then after lunch he was on the phone for a couple of hours, convincing investors who had signed their shares over to Palmer to change their minds… to no avail. Unfortunately, those greedy businessmen didn't care about my family's company; all that mattered to them was the lure of green bucks. Dad spent the rest of the afternoon calling other investors and shareholders, convincing them not to commit the same mistake.

Just as my dad was ready to call it a day, someone unexpected walked into his office.

"Oh… hi," my dad said softly as he looked up to see who was knocking on the glass door. It was Felicity.

Emily was right behind her mother and had her arms around one of her mom's legs. "Hi, Emily! Wanna play games with me?" I offered. She nodded her head and let go of her mom. She came over and sat beside me on the carpeted floor inside my dad's office. I let her hold my tablet and choose which game she wanted to play.

"What brings you to QC?" my dad asked. He had an odd-looking smile on his face. Of course, he was happy to see her so soon, but he also knew that something must be terribly wrong. Felicity didn't normally come to QC. Although she was Senior IT Consultant, she preferred to stay away as much as she could to avoid gossip and other complications. She must have had something very important to tell him. Dad stood up and met her as she walked into the office towards his desk.

Felicity's head hung low. As my dad reached for her hands and held them, she slowly looked up and met his gaze. She was teary-eyed, and her hands were trembling.

"What's wrong?" Dad asked.

"I'm afraid," Felicity said, her voice shaking.

"Tell me," said my dad.

Emily:

Oliver led my mom to the couch in front of his desk nearer where Stephen and I were. They sat down beside each other. Oliver didn't let go of my mom's hand as she started to explain.

"After lunch, I decided to call Ray," my mom began.

"You called Palmer? What for?" Oliver immediately responded.

"I wanted to ask him to back down… you know… from whatever it is he's planning to do about QC." Mom took a deep breath before she continued. "He said he would… and gladly…"

"If…?" Oliver interjected, anticipating a catch in Palmer's unconvincing show of goodwill.

"If I let him have joint custody of Emily." Mom's voice broke. The tears she had been holding back gave way, cascading down her cheeks. Had I known then what this whole idea of joint custody was all about, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs in protest.

"That son of a-"

"Oliver, no. Don't curse. He's not worth it."

This time, it was Oliver who was shaking. Uncontrollably. He suddenly stood up and headed for his desk, slamming his balled fists onto it and leaning over, jolting the three of us. Mom reached forward, crouching down to where we were seated on the floor. She laid one hand on my shoulder and another hand on Stephen's shoulder and said, "It's okay. No worries. Just keep playing."

Mom then stood up and walked over to Oliver. She placed her hands on his arms and leaned her upper body against his back. She nestled her head between his right shoulder and neck. For a while, the rise and fall of his upper back as he inhaled and exhaled deeply seemed to lull my mother to sleep, drowning out her fears and worries. But then, Mom broke the silence and asked him softly, "What are we going to do?"

Oliver straightened up and turned to face my mom. With one hand he held her hand, and with the other, he wiped away the tears on her face. "I don't know what I'm going to do... yet… but I'm sure of what you're not going to do. You are not giving him joint custody of Emily."

"I don't want to… but… what about your company? Pretty soon he'll have enough shares of stocks to demand a seat in the Board. And then… I don't even want to think if what could happen next," Mom spoke as she began to sob slightly. "Oliver, he'll take me to court. I know it!" she panicked.

"Shh… stop…" he tried to comfort her. "He can try. But he won't win. We won't let him."

"But he said…" Mom went on to say in between sobs, "He said if I refuse to let him have joint custody, he would file a civil case and go after sole custody of Emily. He said he'll make me regret having denied him his rights as her biological father. He said he can convince any judge that I'm an unfit mother."

"What?! On what grounds?" Oliver asked. The pitch and volume of his voice were escalating. Rage was brewing inside him.

"Ray said he can prove I'm not fit because I can't finance her medical treatments. Worse, he says I'm an unfit mother coz I irresponsibly expose my daughter to my questionable escapades with men like you. He says he has pictures of us… together… with Emily… in The Bellagio… from reporters. And… and he says he can dig up more dirt on you if I don't give him what he wants."

"That's blackmail!" Oliver yelled in anger. "I'm sorry, Felicity, but your ex… he's a lunatic!"

Mom bowed her head and sniffed. "I know," she responded. "That's why I didn't run after him when I found out I was…" She cried softly again. "I didn't want him around Emily… not even for a minute. Not then, not now. Having him in her life would destroy her."

Mom tried to let go of Oliver's hand as she started to back away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into my life's mess. You don't deserve any of this," she said with deep sadness and regret.

"Felicity, babe, come here." Oliver gripped her hand more tightly and pulled her back towards him. When he had her close, he put an arm around her waist and traced one side of her angelic face with the back of his other hand. "I don't regret being part of your life. Not for a moment. Do you understand?" My mom nodded. "I told you I'd take care of you… and Emily… and I will. I'll do everything I can to protect you… to fight for you… even if it's the last thing I do."

"But-" Mom tried to speak, but Oliver didn't let her. He put a finger on her lips and went on to say, "If a legal battle is what Palmer wants, then that is what he'll get. He can't keep hurting you like this. I won't let him!"

Stephen:

My dad hugged Felicity real tight, and then he kissed her hair, taking in the refreshing scent of cherry blossoms.

He wasn't going to let her go. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered, softly yet surely.

I didn't understand everything they were talking about that night. But judging from the parts that I did, and based on the body language and the emotion I had observed, I was convinced that Felicity and my dad were right for each other. She needed someone to defend her, to love her, and to tell her everything would be all right. He needed someone to bring out the hero in him. At that moment I knew that Dad really did love her. He loved her unconditionally, broken and all. I also knew that she trusted and respected him. He didn't question his decision or minimize his resolve. Love. Respect. I learned early on, and I understand better today, that these two are the pillars of a committed relationship.


	13. At the Queen Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity visits the Queen mansion and meets Moira for the first time. Oliver reconnects with his old best friend, Tommy Merlyn, who willingly helps with the custody issue. More than the legal stuff, things get even more complicated for Oliver and Felicity.

Emily:

More than a month had passed. Negotiations between Queen Consolidated and Palmer Technologies were underway. Thankfully, my mom hadn't heard from Mr. Palmer about the custody matter. Mom had been hoping that my biological father had changed his mind and just dropped the blackmail and the threats. She knew it wasn't like him at all to retreat from a challenge, so she and Oliver had been on their toes, exploring options to be better prepared for when any dreadful news would come up.

The Sunday morning before Thanksgiving Day, we were getting ready for church after a quick breakfast when Oliver called. Mom and I were in the bathroom, hurrying, so that we won't be late for the special Thanksgiving Day service. I had just come out from the shower and my mom was drying my hair and my body, so she put him on speaker phone.

"Hey, what's up? I'm in a bit of a hurry," my mom said as she pressed the button on the screen of her phone.

"Hey. It's a beautiful Sunday morning, and it is almost Thanksgiving. But you're sounding a bit cranky. Are you okay?" Oliver replied.

"Well, I'd be lying if I tell you I'm okay, so I won't tell you I'm okay. Stayed up late working on some ridiculously complicated encrypted files sent over by Palmer Tech to QC, so both my eyes are a bit sore, and I've got an ugly pair of dark bags. But it's nothing a touch of Mary Kay magic can't hide. They have this terrific all-natural concealer that's really perfect for my skin tone, so that should do the trick. Oh, and did you know that Mary Kay came out with mascaras that are water-based but water proof? Crazy huh! I don't know how that's possible, but-" Mom said we were in a hurry, but in stressful situations such as that one, she still can't help but babble.

"Fe-li-ci-ty…" Oliver spoke slowly and tenderly.

"Sorry. Shutting up now," she said with a bit of embarrassment.

"I'm not asking about your cosmetic arsenal. I asked you how you're doing," he said.

"Oh, right. Well… let's just say I feel a bit better this morning. Sleep always does me some good. Even if it's just a couple of hours. Is that why you called? To ask me how I am?"

"That's the first of three reasons I called. The second reason is that I have some news. Good news. I promised you I'd think of a way to help solve your problem with Palmer, remember? I asked you to trust me, and even today I believe things are going to get better," Oliver said reassuringly.

"Hmm… You sound so calm and confident now. A month ago you were so upset, I remember you slamming your fists against your office desk," Mom teased him. She was done drying me up. She picked up my clothes scattered on the bathroom floor, stood up, and hung the wet towel in the rack above the toilet. "Keep talking," my mom said.

"You haven't forgotten about my mother's dinner invitation tonight at our place, right?"

"Mm-hmm… If you meant to ask whether or not I've changed my mind over the last month or so, I haven't. In fact, I've been kind of… looking forward to it. Why do you ask?"

"That's good. You see, I've asked my good friend, Tommy Merlyn, to meet with us at our place before dinner. He's a lawyer. He's back from vacation in South America. He can help with the custody matter. Are you up to it?"

"Oh… thanks! That's so thoughtful of you. I do need legal advice." My mom paused, and then she continued, "But do you think I can afford his fees?"

"Don't worry about that. He's doing this pro bono. Told him my best friend needs help. And don't say I didn't have to," Oliver said, care and concern evident in his voice.

"I don't know what to say…" Mom's voice cracked as she spoke.

"Say yes."

"Okay… yes," she said as she sniffed and wiped away a tear falling from the corner of her eye. "So, what time should Emily and I be at your place if your lawyer friend is meeting us before dinner?"

"Well, that's the third reason. I wanted to ask you if it's okay that Stephen and I join you for church today? It is Thanksgiving Sunday, and I have a lot to be thankful for," Oliver asked. He was so sweet and sincere about it.

"That's wonderful! Emily and I would love for you to come along. Listening to Rev. Olsen's sermon could do us all some good, especially right now. We do have a lot to be thankful for."

I had wished that Oliver could see my mom's face at that moment. Since we moved from the bathroom to my room, she'd been fumbling over my drawers trying to find clothes that matched and that would suit "Sunday's best" standards, almost tripping over some of the toys I had left lying on the floor. But when Oliver told her that he and Stephen wanted to come with us, she suddenly calmed down, stepped backwards from the dresser, and sat down on my bed. She was holding back tears. Tears of joy. Not like the awful tears she had shed the night before. I could tell this meant a lot to my mom.

You see, sometimes, when I would beg Mom to let me sleep on her bed for the night, she sometimes let me. And on two or three occasions when she thought I had fallen fast asleep, I had heard her say her bedtime prayers, which included Oliver and Stephen. She prayed for their health, their safety, and their everyday needs. She prayed for their family. She prayed for his business and office duties. She prayed for their relationship to grow and become stronger. She also prayed for his faith to see him through even in the toughest times in life. My mom has been teaching me how to pray for as long as I could remember. She says that her dad had taught her since childhood how important it is to believe, but she said that it was only when, you know, when she had me… that she realized how important faith really is in a person's life.

"Great!" said Oliver. "So, I was thinking, maybe Stephen and I can pick you up in thirty minutes? After the service, we could stop at some place the kids like for lunch. From there we could go to our place earlier. I've been wanting… for some time now… to show you around our property. If that's alright? We could take a stroll around the gardens. It's really nice in the afternoons, especially at this time of the year. Tommy is coming over at around 4:30."

"Sounds good to me," Mom remarked happily.

Thirty minutes later, the guys were in front of our apartment building. They honked four times – which was our cue.

The church service wasn't like the usual. The children's choir had prepared a mini musicale especially for Thanksgiving. I enjoyed their songs so much! I kept tugging at Mom's arm, begging her to let me join the choir. She told me I was still too young and that I had to wait until I was six before they could audition me. She did promise to coach me so that I could be ready for when that day comes. But someone else was busy patting and stroking my mom's other arm. I wondered why Mom seemed a bit annoyed at my tugging, but patiently and... quite contentedly… welcomed his touch on her forearm. When Rev. Olsen spoke about how people often find it easier to complain about their misfortunes and to focus on their miserable problems instead of counting their blessings, Mom and Oliver exchanged pleasant, thoughtful glances that spoke volumes about the stories of their lives. About the story of their love.

Stephen:

When the service ended, we headed to Big Belly Burger for lunch. We had so much fun telling stories and cracking jokes (Dad's mostly). It really helped Felicity and Dad unwind. 

At about 2:00, Dad drove us straight to our place… which was more of an estate… a huge estate. As we drove past the big black iron gates, I looked at our pretty blonde girls. The expression on their faces was classic. I mean, that's how everyone who ever set foot at the Queens' estate for the first time looked. Emily was trying to squirm her way out of the straps of her car seat just to get a better view of things from her window. Felicity… well… Her eyes were ready to pop out as she scanned the Queen property through her window. Her mouth gaped open for almost a minute that I thought she was going to drool all over her dress. She was speechless, which was quite surprising considering that she was obviously excited to be there. I was waiting for the usual hundred words per minute, but she wasn't able to speak until Dad had stopped the car in front of the main door that opened to the foyer.

As she got out of the car, Felicity said, "Oliver, wow! I've seen pictures and videos of your property in magazines and on the news, but everything looks a lot larger in real life." Dad just grinned as he opened the front door.

I held Emily by the hand and walked her into the foyer a few steps behind her mom. "Wow!" Emily exclaimed. "Very big house!"

"I know, sweetie," Felicity said, rolling her eyes. "It's more like… a castle!" Her voice echoed throughout our spacious foyer.

"That's because it is." It was my grandmother's voice.

We looked up and saw her leaning against the wooden banister, staring at down at us. She let go of her grip and began walking down the grand staircase that gave our foyer a majestic look. Grandma was clad in her usual regal attire, wearing an exquisite diamond pendant around her neck. Her hair was styled as usual, even if she was just spending the day at home. The expression on her face was difficult to read. It was a mixture of excitement, smugness, tension, and… something else I couldn't quite figure out then.

"This used to be called the Hatley Castle," Grandma continued. "It was built and resided in by James and Laura Dunsmuir, wealthy landowners of Scottish descent, who bought this property in the early 1900s. The extensive grounds include the surrounding gardens designed by Bett and Hall, Boston's finest garden designers, also the farmlands on the south side, and a small forest on the east side. Originally, this was a fifty-hectare property, but we had sold the farmlands when my husband died. This castle, which is our home, is the center of the estate. It is a 40-room mansion in the Scottish baronial style. As you can see, the Tudor revival style of the Edwardian period is quite evident in the architecture and interior design. My husband and I purchased the property from the government through an auction during the glory days of Queen Consolidated, way back when I was pregnant with Thea." Obviously, Grandma had become an expert in getting guests acquainted with the estate. She finished her usual tour guide speech as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Mother, this is Felicity Smoak, the love of my life," Oliver spoke with pride, "and that beautiful angel over there is her daughter Emily." Grandma raised her eyebrows as she nodded and smiled. "Felicity, this is my mother, Moira Queen."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Queen. Reverend Olsen sends his regards," Felicity greeted. She stepped forward to meet my grandmother and offer a handshake as a sign of courtesy.

Grandma shook her hand and said, "It's good to finally meet you, Felicity. Oliver has been telling me so many good things about you. In fact, you're all he ever talks about these days. I've been wanting so much to meet you in person." Grandma looked straight into Felicity's eyes as she spoke, and then as she let go, she studied the younger blonde carefully from head to foot, noting the beauty in simplicity that Felicity's appearance showed. My dad was very observant, so he quickly noticed how my Grandma's stares made Felicity uncomfortable.

"Uhm… Mom, Tommy Merlyn is coming over to meet with me and Felicity later. But I promised Felicity I'd give her a tour of the gardens before he arrives," my dad said.

"That's a wonderful idea. The gardens are a sight to see," Grandma responded. "Why don't you invite Tommy to stay for dinner? He's very much welcome. I'm expecting guests myself, Oliver. I hope you don't mind me inviting friends to join us for dinner? Getting to know another potential big-time investor will be good for business, don't you think?"

"Oh, of course Mom. No problem. And I'll make sure to invite Tommy, too," Dad replied. "If you'll excuse us…"

"Fine," said Grandma. "I'll see you later for dinner. You can receive Tommy in the den. My guests and I will be in the main living room discussing business."

"All right," my dad said as he leaned over and kissed Grandma on the cheek.

Emily:

"Once again, I'm very glad to meet you, Mrs. Queen," my mom said, as Stephen's grandma walked away.

Oliver gave us a quick tour of their mansion's ground floor on our way out to the rear garden through the lanai. The view from the elevated outdoor lanai was breathtaking!

"This is not a garden. It's a park!" I remembered saying out loud.

My mom let go of Oliver's hand. She ran down the steps excitedly and then walked briskly to the grassy space. When she got there, she put her purse down and then began to swirl slowly with her hands stretched outwards to her side. Her face tilted upwards, basking in the sunshine. The skirt of her peach-colored, knee-length, sleeveless dress spun like an umbrella, slightly revealing her attractive legs. She looked so pretty, blending in with the natural colors of autumn. (Let's face it. I have the most adorable Mom!)

I started to run, too, towards my mom. I wanted to twirl on the grass with her. But Oliver was a faster runner. He got to my mom long before I did. He surprised her by coming from behind and picking her up by the waist. They both laughed as they twirled together under the sun.

"Oliver, stop! I'm getting dizzy!" Mom shouted.

Oliver stopped swirling and put my Mom down just as I got to them. "Me too! Me too!" I yelled. Oliver picked me up with his strong arms. He lifted me above his head and he began to turn. Boy, did I love it! By the time Oliver put me down, Stephen was already on the grass with us.

Stephen:

The four of us strolled around the gardens for almost two hours. We enjoyed taking pictures – selfies and groupies, solos, and of course, shots of just my dad and Felicity together, and shots of me and Emily together. I took it upon myself to pick up from where my grandmother had left off and acted as the tour guide for our favorite blonde girls. Felicity loved the classic landscapes of the Edwardian park. It was divided into four different landscape zones that progressed from a series of nine formal "garden rooms" near the mansion, as Grandma called them, to recreational spaces that led to the forest on the east side. She especially appreciated the Japanese Garden and the Italian Garden, but the one she loved most was the Rose Garden. And I knew why.

When we were in the Rose Garden, Felicity stopped in front of a patch of red roses. Just as she bent over slightly to smell one of the blooms, my dad sneaked up from behind and wrapped one arm around her waist. As she turned her head to look at him over her right shoulder, he kissed her near the back of her ear and then whispered, "I love you… very much."

"And I love you, too," she whispered back. Oliver handed her a pink rosebud that he had just picked right there.

By the time we got back through the lanai at the garden side of the mansion, it was almost 4:30. Felicity wanted to go freshen up, so she disappeared into the house trying to find the powder room in the labyrinth of the first floor. Dad had given her directions how to get to the den from the powder room and told her to meet us there, and it had taken her about a minute to process his instructions. That's how complicated our place was.

Soon, Uncle Tommy arrived. As he walked into the den, I thought he looked great and hadn't changed much. I hadn't seen him for a while. Let's see… I think the last time I saw him was sometime after my mom's funeral. I remember that day. It was a cold, rainy day. They had an argument right here in this den. And then I didn't see him again after that… until today.

"Hey, Tommy!" my dad called out. The guys met each other near the entrance of the den. They did a high five, and then Uncle Tommy pulled my dad in for a bear hug. "How's Starling City's big shot defense attorney?"

"I'm good. In fact, I'm doing great! The law firm's expanding. I now have two partners and about five associates and researchers. Private practice has certainly picked up since Laurel's…" Uncle Tommy's speech suddenly decelerated and toned down. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's okay. I'm doing so much better now," my Dad said. He tapped Uncle Tommy's shoulder to assure him that he was not offended by what he almost reminded Dad of.

"Doing better, huh? So I hear. I've read about you and Ms. Smoak in the papers," Uncle Tommy responded with a twinkle in his eye. "So, tell me about her."

"Nope," Dad said mischievously.

"Why not?" Uncle Tommy asked with a bit of irritation in his voice.

"Coz I want you to meet her. She's here. She'll join us in a few minutes."

"Fabulous! Anything I should know before I meet the girl of your dreams?"

"She's different, Tommy. She's the one."

"Whoa!" Uncle Tommy exclaimed. "Oliver, you're different. Are you serious?"

"Never been this serious in my entire life."

"You can say that again. Even when you married Laurel, you weren't sure you were doing the right thing. She felt so insecure you about it. She used to confide in me, you know."

"Yeah, I knew."

"You knew?"

"I did. And I don't take it against you anymore, man. I now understand that you were just trying to be a friend. She needed someone back then… when I… when I wasn't there for her… really. I mean, as a good husband should. But you were. And I'm glad you were. At least she wasn't alone."

"We were something else, huh, the three of us? Those were the days," Uncle Tommy spent the next ten minutes reminiscing memories that he shared with my parents. Some of the stories I had heard before, but some were new. Like the story of when the three of them got drunk and got a speeding ticket one summer during their college days. The police officer wanted to book them for a DUI, but Uncle Tommy offered the cop a bribe. They had escaped jail time because of that. Now that he's a lawyer, he tells the story regretfully, like he's ashamed of it. From what I know, he loves his job of protecting and defending innocent people. Just like my mom did.

Uncle Tommy and my mom both took up law in Harvard and graduated at the same time. Then they put their savings together and put up a private law firm. They were partners. Uncle Tommy used to tell me that even though he had courted my mom for the longest time, she was madly in love with my dad… even if my dad was a really bad boy back then. "I don't understand what she saw in you, man. Even if we were thousands of miles away from Starling, Laurel thought about you every single day. At first I was really jealous, but when I tried to understand her better, I just… I came to respect her feelings and her choice," Uncle Tommy explained to my dad.

"That's why you were my best man… despite everything," my dad remarked with a smile.

"That's good to know," Uncle Tommy sighed in relief. "You know what? If Laurel could see you now and talk to you, she would be so proud of the man you've become."

"Thanks. That means a lot."

Emily:

Just then, my mom walked into the den. "Here you are. I'm so sorry. I got lost trying to find my way in this impossible maze of a mansion!"

Oliver chuckled as he motioned for my mom to come closer to where he and Tommy were seated. He stood up and said, "Felicity, babe, I'd like you to meet Tommy Merlyn, my best friend. Tommy, this is Felicity Smoak, the woman I'm going to-"

"Hi, Tommy! It's wonderful to finally meet you," Mom interrupted Oliver and gave Tommy a warm hug. As she pulled back, she gave Oliver a quizzical look and said, "Best friend, huh? Thought I was your best friend."

Tommy held both his hands up in the air, refusing to comment and rescue his friend from what seemed like the beginning of an interrogation.

"Ah, right… best friend. I meant, best male friend. Well, he was my best friend before Diggle and before you… so…"

"Well, if Tommy here was your best friend before Diggle and I became your best friends, then… why haven't you told me anything much about him?" Mom pushed harder.

"Well, I… uhm," Oliver struggled to find the words to give her a decent, believable answer.

Finally, Tommy came to his aid. "It's a long story. We kind of… lost touch. And my former best friend here has just come to his senses and realized that the thing between us wasn't really that big of a deal. Actually, he got in touch with me just last night asking for my professional help." He nudged Oliver with his elbow, prompting him to continue what he's trying so very hard to clear up.

"Oh that! Yeah…" Oliver said as he scratched the back of his head.

My mom gave the guys a naughty-looking smile and said, "Yes, I believe he called you because of me."

"Oh. So, you're the friend who needs legal advice," Tommy remarked.

"Yes. Felicity's ex is starting to give her a rough time. He's threatening to take her to court if she doesn't agree to joint custody of Emily," Oliver explained to his friend, his hand gesturing in my direction.

"Well, why don't we take our seats and you tell me everything," Tommy suggested.

Stephen:

Emily and I had started to get bored, so I turned on my tablet and we decided to play video games on the carpeted floor in the middle of the den.

As soon as the adults sat down in the corner of the room, my dad began to explain the situation with Felicity and Emily. "Emily is three years old now, but her father was never in the picture. Felicity has been raising her all by herself, first in Vegas and then here in Starling. They had to move here to get her better medical attention because she has serious allergies and a lung condition. In a recent turn of events, the father now seems to be interested in his rights."

"So, are you and Emily's father divorced?" Uncle Tommy asked Felicity.

"Oh, I'm a single mom, and I was never married to that creep. Marriage to him was never an option for me. When he learned I was pregnant, he wanted me to get rid of the baby and didn't want to have anything to do with me... or my child. He said a pregnant girlfriend was bad for his career. That's why Emily has my last name on her birth certificate."

"Has he given child support or shown any interest in Emily all this time?" Uncle Tommy asked her again.

"Nope," Felicity answered, popping the P sound with gusto. "Not a birthday card, not a Christmas gift, not even a stupid phone call. He was never in our lives… til now."

"I see. And why do you think he is starting to take interest now?" Uncle Tommy asked a third time.

Dad and Felicity looked at each other, and then they held hands. "Just this weekend, I was in Vegas to strike up a deal with Palmer Technologies," my dad began to explain. "Felicity and Emily came along. That's when… that's when-"

"That's when I saw Ray Palmer again after three years," Felicity continued. "He's Emily's father."

Felicity looked down as Uncle Tommy's jaw dropped. When he had recovered from the shock, he said very slowly, "Ray Palmer. As in Palmer Tech. He's your ex. And your daughter's father. That's very… interesting."

"So what are we looking at, Tommy? Do you think Felicity has a chance in court? She really doesn't like the idea of joint custody. The guy may be a genius, a filthy rich genius, but I've met him, man. He's crazy. And an arrogant fool." My dad's words were strong. He was very concerned for our girls.

"Well, if you're asking for my legal advice, I'm afraid I can't assure you that you will win," Uncle Tommy began, shaking his head slightly as he put a hand on his forehead. "You have to understand. State laws on child custody are anchored on the best interests of the child. By best interests, the courts usually rule in favor of joint custody, believing that a child needs both her mother and her father in order to grow up in a healthy environment. If Emily's father takes you to court, he could petition the judge not just for joint physical custody but also for joint legal custody."

"What does that mean?" Felicity asked with a worried tone.

"Joint physical custody is like dual residence. Emily lives with you for a period of time and then with her father the rest of the time. It could be for weeks or months in a year. It depends on what you agree on before the judge."

"And that's different from simple visitation?" my dad interrupted Uncle Tommy to ask.

"Yes. Visitation rights are granted to the other parent when he does not have physical custody to see the child on a regular basis. Joint legal custody, on the other hand, means that Emily's father will have equal legal authority to make decisions for her, which include education, health care, religion, that kind of stuff. The courts can grant joint legal custody without joint physical custody. But based on what I've been hearing and reading about Mr. Palmer, I guess, he would confidently take his chances on petitioning the court for both."

"And there is nothing we can do to stop him?" my dad asked again.

"If he's really Emily's father, and I'm sure his lawyer can establish that in court with sufficient evidence – like a paternity or DNA test – the judge will see him as a legitimate parent. And he stands a strong chance of getting whatever it is he's after. I mean, based on outward appearances, Mr. Palmer is a member of society with high standing. He has the financial capability to support the child."

"Except that he is absolutely bankrupt when it comes to morals and character," Felicity responded, holding back her anger and frustration. She continued, "I can't believe that's the scenario I'm going to have to deal with. It's very disconcerting." She looked down once again, removed her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Dad let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. Felicity leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. "Is there nothing else we can do? Nothing that could keep him from sharing custody?" Dad asked.

"Well, there is one thing, but I doubt it will be of relevance to what we're seeing here," Uncle Tommy said.

"What is it?" Felicity asked hopefully.

"The courts usually deny petitions for custody, and sometimes even visitation, if the petitioning parent is proven to have a history of drug abuse, psychological incapacity, or domestic violence," Uncle Tommy answered.

I saw Felicity shudder.

"Are you okay, babe?" Dad asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah… I'm just really upset about this whole thing. The idea of Emily spending time alone with Ray, let alone sleeping in his house… it just gives me the creeps. Having him in my daughter's life will destroy her." A tear fell from Felicity's eye.

Dad squeezed her shoulder and then rubbed her back to comfort her. As she tried to compose herself, my dad said to Uncle Tommy, "Thank you, Tommy. We'll call you when something comes up?"

"Sure. Anytime, man. You know where to reach me."

Dad continued, "You're welcome to stay for Thanksgiving dinner. My mom made sure I extend you the invitation."

"Thanks for the invite, but I already have dinner plans. Sara's telling her parents about us tonight," Uncle Tommy responded with a smile radiating on his face.

"Sara?" my dad asked in wide-eyed wonder. "My sister-in-law, Sara? You and Sara?"

"Yeah," Uncle Tommy chuckled. "We got to know each other better since she came back from the east coast last year. Didn't expect I'd fall for another Lance girl, but… I did. She's good to me, you know."

"That's just great! I'm so happy for you, man!" Dad remarked. He was really happy for Uncle Tommy, but he was holding back a bit because he didn't want to appear so overjoyed while Felicity was feeling frustrated, angry, and downright terrible.

At that moment, Lucia appeared at the entrance to the den, calling all of us to dinner. We walked Uncle Tommy to the front door and sent him off, and then proceeded to the dining room. When we got there, I ran straight to my usual seat and helped Emily sit up on hers, but Dad and Felicity stopped dead in their tracks, mouths gaping open as they both gasped.

"Oliver, Felicity, there you are," Grandma said as she stood up from her chair at the end of the long dining table. Her two other guests, who were already seated beside each other to her left, also stood up and glanced at my dad and Felicity with strange-looking smirks.

Grandma continued, "You're just in time for dinner. I believe you know Ms. Rochev from our very own accounting department. And of course, I believe you've met my new friend, Mr. Ray Palmer, owner and CEO of Palmer Technologies."

My heart sank. This was perhaps the worst evening in the lives of Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed Tommy Merlyn after his untimely demise at the end of season 1. That's why in this AU fic, Oliver's best friend is alive and well. Moira, on the other hand, had always been the character in the show that I couldn't figure out - she moved from friend to foe and back quite a number of times. I stick with the mystery in her character in this story. And the background info she gave about the mansion? All of that is factual, well, based on what I was able to Google - I hope. 
> 
> As for the legal matters in this chapter, I had to do some research on California custody laws and policies as I'm not even from the U.S., so I hope I was able to do some justice there. For those of you who are well-versed in this and are from California, I apologize for any mistake made. I tried.
> 
> So what do you think of how the story is going so far?


	14. Anger Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple tense confrontations occur right after Sunday-before-Thanksgiving dinner at the Queen mansion. Who wins each battle of the wits?

Emily:

I looked around me. That dining room in the Queen mansion was as big as a restaurant. Everything above me all around, I could see clearly. There were still life paintings of wine bottles, fruits (some of which I did not recognize), and flowers. I could not see clearly anything that was directly in front of me though, because tall candle stands and elaborate floral arrangements were blocking my view. I was way too small to be sitting with the grown-ups. My chin was just a couple of inches above the top surface of the dining table.

The dining table was really long, and all of us combined had only taken up half its length. Mrs. Queen, Stephen's grandma, was seated at the end of the table to my left. Stephen was seated between her and me. My mom was sitting beside me to my right, and Oliver was next to her. Right across Oliver and Mom were Thea and the handsome Mr. Roy Harper, whom she had introduced to everyone as her friend when they arrived just before Mrs. Queen said grace. Right across me and Stephen were the two classy guests, Mr. Ray Palmer and Ms. Isabel Rochev, both of whom had ruined what should have been a wonderful Thanksgiving Sunday evening for all of us.

As we waited for the appetizer and soup to be served, I put both my forearms on the table, one on top of the other, and rested my left cheek on them. I had a pretty good view of my Mom's and Oliver's faces. By that time, they had already gotten over the shock of seeing their unexpected and unwelcomed company, but the shock had been replaced by dismay and discomfort. Mom stilled looked very pretty, and Oliver was equally good-looking, but the faint, fake smiles on their faces were telltale signs that the evening would not play out very well. The turkey was magnificent, and the cranberry sauce and stuffing were delicious. But, what was supposed to be one of the best meals of my life – dining in a castle – turned out to be a big disappointment.

Dinner time proved uneventful. Too uneventful, I might add. The things the grown-ups talked about were the most boring stuff I'd ever heard. The topics of conversations were petty and shallow. I had almost given up waiting for someone smart or sincere to break up the irritating small talk, when Mrs. Queen spoke, just as we were all finishing up dessert.

"Well, I think dinner is done. Why don't we all move to the recreation room to continue our pleasantries. There's a mini bar there. But for those of you who do not prefer wine or whiskey, Lucia can serve coffee or tea there, too."

Everyone stood up and proceeded to the said room. I didn't know what a recreation room was supposed to be. But as soon as we got there, I had decided that I wanted one in our house as well. There were chess and checkers tables, billiards, backgammon, and pinball games, and even a slot machine! Stephen and I went straight to the pinball game. I asked him to teach me how to play it. I tuned one ear to him, listening to his instructions. I tuned my other ear to the conversation that Thea had begun with Isabel Rochev. They sat at the chess table and started a game.

"I'm not much for small talk. You know that, Rochev. So I'll go straight to the point," Thea said. She moved the white pawn in front of her king piece one space forward. "I honestly didn't expect you to show up tonight, and quite frankly, I don't like it. I don't like you. Never did. So… why… are… you… here?" Thea spoke softly but sternly as she pierced Isabel's eyes with her well-aimed glare.

Isabel raised an eyebrow as she moved the black pawn in front of her queen piece one space forward. She leaned back in her chair. She put both arms on the arm rests and replied, "And there I thought some English manners would rub off on you while you were gone. Seems I am sadly mistaken. You are still the pretty little she-devil I've always known you to be."

"I'm waiting for an answer, Rochev." Thea moved another pawn that was in front of her queen piece two spaces forward.

Isabel did something with her lips that showed some hesitation. She moved out one of her knights and placed it in front of the pawn in front of a rook. And then, with narrowed eyes and a wicked grin she answered, "I'm here as Mr. Palmer's plus one. Your mother called me and requested me to accompany Ray. Someone had to show him the way to the mansion. And I'm pretty sure she knew that she couldn't count on Ollie to do that for her, considering-"

"Let me make myself clear, Rochev," Thea said as she leaned forward, moving out a bishop three spaces diagonally to the left. She then rested her elbows on the table and put her chin on balled fists. "Do not mess with my brother… again. If you so much as look in his direction, I promise you… I will do everything in my power to see to it that no department in QC will ever take you in, not even as a clerk."

"Oh really? And since when did you possess this power that you speak of?" Isabel challenged Thea's threat. She moved the pawn in front of her king piece one space forward, unaware of her opponent's strategy.

"For your information, I start at QC tomorrow as head of HRD. My father had always known that I can be a good judge of character, and Oliver agrees. I'm sure that with the right amount of persistence, I could easily dig up something in your record that could put you away for good," Thea responded confidently. She moved out the white queen piece four spaces diagonally to the right.

Isabel cleared her throat and leaned forward to move her other knight piece, placing it in front of the pawn in front of her other rook. She clearly knew nothing about the game. She also rested her elbows on the table and put her chin on balled fists, until the two of them were like mirror images of each other. "You have it all wrong, Thea," she hissed. "I'm not after your brother. Ollie is too easy… without the blonde hovering around him."

Thea shut her eyes, grit her teeth, and swallowed hard. It must have taken every ounce of her self-control to keep her from reaching forward and grabbing her female foe by the hair. "That doesn't change anything, Rochev. Oliver or Felicity or both… I'm going after you, if you don't stop whatever it is that you and Ray Palmer are planning to do to get in their way." Thea picked up the white queen and moved it diagonally two spaces to the left, disposing of the black pawn in front of Isabel's black king. "Check mate," Thea said. She stood up and left Isabel to go to the powder room.

Stephen:

If Emily had been eavesdropping on the conversation between Aunt Thea and Isabel Rochev, I had been listening in on what my dad and Mr. Palmer had been talking about, as they played 8-ball on the billiards table. My dad picked up a stick and began to speak.

"So, did you just happen to be in Starling this week for Thanksgiving, or… is there some special reason you decided to fly over from Vegas?"

Mr. Palmer gathered the balls and prepared them inside the triangular frame on the billiards table. "I figured I had nothing to lose by taking you up on your offer more than a month ago. And just like you, I thought coming here in person would show you just how serious I am about making sure that I get what's rightfully mine." He looked straight into my dad's eyes, as if he were threatening him. He gripped the triangular frame that held the balls together, firmly, as he and my dad held a face-off for a few seconds, and then he removed the triangular frame and set it aside.

My dad must have understood the double meaning of the words he just spoke, because he struck the cue ball real hard with his stick for the break, instantly pocketing two striped balls. "What's rightfully yours?" Dad remarked, "By that, I hope you mean your investments, stocks, hardware and software… not people. People aren't property. They're free to choose."

Dad pocketed another striped ball. Mr. Palmer was getting even more wound up. His forehead began to crease. He didn't know he challenged the wrong person to a billiards game. Dad was an expert.

Mr. Palmer circled the billiards table slowly, observing my dad's moves. He couldn't wait another second for his turn to shoot, but my dad kept sinking stripes. In frustration, he crossed both arms across his chest and blurted out, "You know, Queen, I think it's time someone showed you what happens when anyone gets in my way."

"Don't even try. You'll regret it," was my Dad's swift answer. He took a shot and pocketed the last striped ball. He bent over and aimed at the 8-ball. But just before he took the shot, he looked up at Mr. Palmer and locked his eyes on to his. "She is no one's property. Not even mine. Respect her choices, Palmer. That's all."

Whack! The 8-ball rolled straight into the corner pocket. Mr. Palmer looked down at the ball inside the corner pocket, his face flushing red with rage. He then walked away from the billiards table and headed to the mini bar where Roy Harper was. Mr. Palmer poured himself a shot of whiskey to drown out the sting of his temporary defeat.

Emily:

When I got the hang of playing pinball, Stephen walked away to play billiards with his dad. Soon I got bored with my game, so I went to the slot machine that was right beside the checkers table where my mom and Mrs. Queen sat chatting. I didn't understand how the game was played. I only enjoyed the different shapes that moved so fast each time I pulled the lever. It was so cool! The slot machine made a lot of noise, but I could still hear what the two blonde ladies were saying to each other.

"Tell me, my dear. How do you manage to raise your little girl all by your lonesome?" the older woman asked.

"Oh, Mrs. Queen, it's not easy. I have my hands full all the time. But it's very fulfilling to mother a wonderful child and see her turning out beautifully," my mom replied.

"I'm sure it is. It's been amazing watching my Oliver and Thea grow into adults. There's nothing I would do to keep anyone from taking advantage of either of them, especially my beautiful boy," Mrs. Queen remarked.

With that, Mom tilted her head and creased her eyebrows. She sensed there was something more to what the elderly woman had said. "Excuse me?" Mom responded. "If you have something to say to me, Mrs. Queen, you can go ahead and say it. I prefer conversations to be more candid, you know."

"Well in that case, I'll go straight to the point, Felicity," Mrs. Queen responded. "My son is heir to the empire that my husband and I have built all these years by the sweat of our brows. His tragic mistake with Laurel Lance nearly cost him his future, and I am not going to sit around and watch him make the same mistake. No… not with someone like you. What would it take to make you walk away from all this?"

My mom gasped and bowed her head instantly, trying to avoid Mrs. Queen's powerful stare. I could see her rubbing sweaty palms on her dress beneath the checkers table. She breathed in and held back her tears. And then, she placed her hands back on the table and looked straight into the older woman's eyes. "With all due respect, Mrs. Queen… my relationship with your son has nothing to do with your family's fortune and social standing. I'm sure he has told you that our commitment is based on-"

"Based on love?" Mrs. Queen rudely interrupted with a mild yet mocking laughter. "My dear, there's no such thing as true love. In life, there's only survival. If you want to stay on top, you will have to fight for it. And I assure you, when I fight, I always win. So I'll ask again… nicely… What will it take for you to break up with my son?" Mrs. Queen said all that forcefully, yet barely opening her mouth so that others in the room would not hear her.

When my mom's first tear rolled down her cheek, Mrs. Queen grinned maliciously. "Perhaps I haven't made my offer clear. How much will it take?"

A few more seconds passed, and Mrs. Queen quickly grew tired of waiting for a response from my mom. Mom simply sat there, gazing at the checker pieces on the table. Mrs. Queen pushed even further and said, "Oh… I get it. There's something else isn't there? Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have to ask. Has Oliver gotten you pregnant? It's happened twice before, you know." The older lady raised an eyebrow as she scornfully smirked at my mom.

Mom couldn't take it anymore. She was utterly humiliated and insulted. I could tell, as her whole body shook, that she was about to explode or break down. But instead of screaming her lungs out and lashing at Oliver's mother, she kept her courteous demeanor and spoke with admirable restraint, "Thank you for dinner, and for your extraordinary way of showing the Queen family's hospitality. But please, Mrs. Queen… even just for the sake of your son… whom I love with all my heart… don't you ever… ever insult me again. Good evening."

Mom stood up, walked away from the Queen matriarch towards Oliver at the billiards table. "Oliver, it's late. I have to put Emily to bed. Please take us home." Oliver looked into her eyes and saw her tears. Her pain. Something or someone had upset her. It was his mother.

Stephen:

As soon as Felicity and Emily announced that they were leaving, the rest of our guests followed suit. Everyone was upset, except Roy Harper, who was clueless about the anger games that had taken place. They all wanted to get out of there fast. My dad brought the Smoaks home. Isabel and Mr. Palmer left in her car. Aunt Thea drove Roy Harper home.

Less than an hour later, as I was watching television with Grandma, Dad returned. He walked into the living room with that angry look on his face. "Mom, we need to talk," he said.

"Now? Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm quite tired from the day's activities," Grandma bargained.

"Yes, right now." Dad didn't back off. "Stephen, please go to your room. Grandma and I have something important to talk about."

It was one of those few times that I decided to disobey. I stepped out of the living room, but I sat down on one of the steps of the staircase that led to the second floor bedrooms. I wanted to hear what they would be talking about. I had a feeling it had something to do with how the evening ended – with how Felicity went home all upset. Oh, I was more than twenty feet away but I could hear Dad and Grandma very clearly. They weren't talking; they were arguing.

"Why was Palmer here, Mom?" my Dad asked, as coolly as he could at the start. He didn't want to jump to conclusions without hearing his mother's side first. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"He called me yesterday evening asking to speak with me personally while he's here in Starling for a week. He wanted my help to convince you about certain concessions in the negotiations about the Las Vegas subsidiary. I said it would be my pleasure to meet with him this afternoon. I thought it was perfectly fine to invite him to join us for dinner," Grandma explained.

"And Isabel?"

"I requested her to accompany Mr. Palmer here. I figured, if he felt he had to ask me to act as a go-between, then you and he had somehow didn't see eye to eye during your negotiations in Vegas about a month ago. I thought it was better to ask Isabel for a favor instead of asking you. You know I've always liked Ms. Rochev. She has such class."

"Is that all?" my dad asked. It seemed that he still wasn't satisfied with Grandma's explanation.

"Well… yes. Ollie, is there a problem? You look upset." It was Grandma's turn to ask.

Dad paused. It felt like he was thinking twice about whether or not to go on and answer her question, or about how he would say what he had wanted to say to his mom.

Finally, my dad asked sternly, "What did you say to her, Mom?"

"Who?"

"Felicity. What did you say to upset her?"

"She didn't tell you?" Grandma replied with sarcasm. "I thought she said your relationship was based on trust… or… what was it that she said… oh, love."

"Mother! Quit playing games with me."

I heard Grandma heave a deep sigh. "I told your beloved Felicity that I would stop at nothing to keep her from taking advantage of you. Oh, come on, Ollie! Do you honestly think that a desperate single mother like her… the daughter of a cocktail waitress and an ordinary construction worker… with a three-year-old she could barely support by herself… is not in this relationship for money?! I asked her how much it would take for her to leave you alone."

"What?!" Dad yelled. "How could you say that to her?! Felicity is the most decent woman I have ever known. She has the purest heart, and now you've… you've shattered it to pieces!"

"Now don't you go getting melodramatic on me, Ollie. It doesn't suit you!" Grandma yelled back.

Again, there was a short pause. But after a few seconds of silence, my dad spoke again, in a slightly calmer tone of voice. "Mom, please listen to me very carefully, and try to understand what I'm going to say," Dad said. "I love Felicity with all my heart, and she loves me. I intend to marry her… and give her daughter the Queen family name… with or without your blessing."

"Over my dead body!" was my grandma's furious answer. "Are you choosing her over your own mother?! What is it about this woman that's driving you mad?" Grandma paused, and then hurled a vicious accusation at my dad. "What's the matter? Have you gotten her pregnant, too?!"

"You can't be serious!" my dad protested. "Why can't you get over my past? I'm not that kind of person anymore. How could you even think that?!"

"Because it has happened before! First with Sandra Hawke… and then with Laurel! You tarnished our family's good name and nearly damaged your future… permanently! Not once, but twice!"

"I'm so sorry that I put you through heartaches like that before, Mom. But I'm also sorry to know that you have come to regard me so low… so small in your eyes that you would even think that that's the only reason I am dead set on marrying Felicity."

Sadness and bitterness were evident in my dad's voice. And then, after a few audible sniffs, he spoke again. "You owe her an apology, Mother. But then again, knowing you… I don't expect it'll ever happen."

I heard my dad's footsteps coming closer. He was done talking. I scurried up the stairs to my bedroom before I get caught. "Poor Dad," I thought to myself as I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it. I wished I knew how to make him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if you were scoring and tallying points during the anger games. In your opinion, who won in those heated conversations? How do you think those confrontations will affect the rest of the story and the relationship of Oliver and Felicity?
> 
> For me, there was absolutely nothing to like about Isabel Rochev in season 2. I saw no reason to write anything nice about her character in this story, and I made sure Thea would beat her in the chess match.


	15. Trouble at Q.C.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray Palmer shows up at Q.C. Someone gets hurt. More troublesome secrets come out.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Slight domestic violence scene in this chapter.

Emily:

The week that followed that disastrous dinner at the Queen mansion was a welcome breather for everyone who had been high-strung that evening. My mom, for one, focused on her job for QC, allotting more than eight hours a day working on her computer at home while I played, napped, and watched TV or DVDs. At least once a day, Oliver had been texting or calling my mom to see how she was doing after what had happened. He knew she was greatly affected by that nasty encounter with his mean mother.

"Hey, babe! Are you doing okay today?" Oliver asked Mom in one of their phone conversations a couple of days ago.

"Well… I've been better," she replied with a slightly indifferent tone. She was chewing on a red pen as she stared at the computer screen vigorously analyzing data for Oliver's company.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked, noticing that she wasn't that much interested in talking. "I can call some other time. Are you busy with something?"

"Yup. I'm busy with stuff for your company."

"Yeah? What about?"

"Oh, just some irregularities with the figures sent by Palmer Tech. Seems to me they've got some numbers wrong in the feasibility study they sent via email. I think this requires your attention. And though I really hate to say this…" Mom hesitated a bit, and then cleared her throat before she continued, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to come in and show it to you… and Ray… before the two of you face the Board for that final presentation that would give the Las Vegas subsidiary a green light."

"I see. Well, I trust you. If it can't be avoided, I'm just going to have to keep an eye on you," Oliver said.

"Keep an eye on me, huh? And how do you plan to do that?" my mom teased.

"Without blinking," Oliver said with a chuckle. "I'm not going to let you out of my sight."

"You know I like that," she remarked with a grin.

"I'm sure you do."

"Mm-hmm… I love you," Mom said sweetly.

"I love you more," he replied.

"Argh! The two lovebirds are at it again," I thought to myself. I roll my eyes even now as I recall it.

Before the conversation ended, I heard Oliver say that he wanted Mom to report to his office Friday morning. Mom agreed, but she asked if she could take me with her. Oliver, of course, said yes.

Stephen:

Meanwhile, the atmosphere at our place was somewhat different. Dad and Grandma were not in speaking terms. They constantly avoided each other. I don't recall a time that week when Dad and I shared a meal with her. He kept himself busy with work at the office and spent the evenings working out in the gym in the same wing of the mansion as our den, or helping me out with homework.

Aunt Thea had also become a bit busy. She started work at QC's human resource department that Monday and came home every night just before dinner, complaining and whining about the work ethics of the employees in her department.

"Ollie, half of the people you've got working in that department don't know the first thing about priorities!" she had said one time at supper. "I hope you'd consider giving me a free hand at this. Give me two months tops to turn them into a well-oiled machine."

My dad gave her a go. He had faith in her. He knew that more than her excellent training in the university and in her internship, she had the determination and the guts to get results.

"Thanks, Ollie! You won't be disappointed!" she said, as she gave him a hug and a smack on the cheek.

Emily:

Mom got me ready early that Friday morning. She kept saying she didn't want to be late for work. That was the day she was going to meet with the two most controversial men in her life, and I could tell she was overly stressed for her own good. She hadn't eaten breakfast yet, but she had drunk three mugs of coffee already. The caffeine overload made her babble more than usual, and I couldn't keep up with her. I was beginning to be stressed myself.

Mom put on a really nice office outfit. It was a one-piece royal blue dress with three-fourths sleeves that covered her body from the neck to mid-calf but showed off her delicate curves. She wore an elegant pearl necklace with matching pearl earrings shaped like tiny teardrops. And as usual, she tied her hair neatly in a ponytail. She walked confidently in her black heels, her feet tapping as we went down the stairs of our apartment building.

Oliver had sent Mr. Diggle to pick us up and take us to Queen Consolidated. I really liked my limo ride, but I hated the straps of the car seat that tied me down. I had wanted to explore everything inside that extra-long, spacious car. When we got to the QC building, we headed up on the private elevator to Oliver's office.

It was five minutes before 9:00, and Oliver was already there. As soon as we walked through the swinging glass door, he stood up from behind his desk and walked excitedly towards us. He wrapped his sturdy, muscular arms around my mom's petite waist as she put her arms around his neck. It seemed like they no longer cared whether or not other people might see them in each other's embrace.

"I missed you," Oliver whispered as their foreheads touched. My mom just smiled and closed her eyes. He planted a kiss on her forehead before they pulled back and set each other free from each other's locked arms.

"I should set up my presentation before Ray gets here," Mom said. Oliver nodded and helped her set up in the conference room. Mr. Diggle stepped into the office and sat down in front of me, reading a newspaper.

In the few times I had seen Mom and Oliver working together, I had begun learning to love watching their partnership. They complemented each other – brains and brawn. Their terrific two-man tag team seemed unbeatable, if you ask me. Ray Palmer and Isabel Rochev didn't stand a chance.

Five minutes after 9:00, Mr. Palmer walked into the conference room. Martin, his bodyguard stayed in Oliver's office and stood behind me, right across Mr. Diggle, where he could get a good view of everything in the conference room.

We couldn't really hear the conversations inside the conference room because the sliding glass door was sound proof, and it remained closed the entire time. But I could tell that in minutes, the three of them had progressed from mere talking to arguing. Mom was doing that thing with her hands, switching time and again from waving them in front of her to putting them on her hips. She'd point to the screen, wag her index finger to and fro, and then scratch her forehead with it, as if utterly frustrated that the guys couldn't follow what she was trying to make them understand.

Most of the time, it was Mom and Mr. Palmer exchanging arguments, while Oliver kept his contributions to the discussion at the minimum. He was more intently focused on keeping an eye on my mom, just as he had promised. His watchful eyes followed her every move. He anticipated Mr. Palmer's responses. Whenever Mr. Palmer took one or two steps closer to my mom, Oliver would circle around from behind her and stand slightly in between them at an angle.

At one point my mom got so frustrated she put her hand on her forehead, massaging it as if soothing a headache. She leaned on the conference table with her other hand. Oliver quickly moved closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, and appeared to ask her if she was okay. I saw Mr. Palmer roll his eyes and sigh as he turned to face the screen in disdain.

After about thirty minutes, they were finished. Oliver turned off the presentation. He was busy packing up stuff in the conference room when my mom came out and said to me, "Hey, Ems, don't you wanna pee?" I nodded. I got off the couch and walked with her to the ladies room down the hallway from Oliver's office, past the elevators.

In the ladies room, Mom brought me with her into the cubicle that was nearest the door. She helped me pee and then we proceeded to wash our hands. Just as we were drying our hands with paper towels, the last lady who was inside the restroom with us walked out the door. The lady disappeared from view, but the door remained open. In a split-second, in came Mr. Palmer.

"Ray?" Mom stared at him with a puzzled look. "This is the ladies room."

"I know. I won't take long," he replied.

I could see from the expression on Mr. Palmer's face that he was upset at my mom. My heart began to beat faster. I could smell trouble.

My mom gently led me into the cubicle we had just used and said, "Emily, sweetie, I need you to stay in here for a while. Mr. Palmer wants to talk to Mommy." She closed the cubicle door, intending to shield me from the ugly sight of a possible fight. "Okay," I said.

As my mom turned to face Mr. Palmer, I pushed the door and kept it slightly ajar, just enough for me to peek. My hands were starting to shake, but I had to cover my mouth with one hand to remind me to keep quiet and just listen.

"I know what you were trying to do, Felicity," Mr. Palmer began to say. "Our numbers were right. You're just trying to keep me from closing the deal."

"Absolutely not!" my mom responded, angered by his malicious allegation. "I double-checked the figures, and I can prove that you – or someone in your company – intentionally tampered with them. I won't let you mislead Oliver and the Board."

"If you try to get in my way again, Felicity, you'll be sorry. You know full well what happens when people get in my way," Mr. Palmer threatened.

"I'm not afraid of you, Ray. Not anymore. Don't you dare threaten me." Mom fought back with all the ferocity she could muster.

Mr. Palmer started taking slow steps towards my mom, forcing her to take smaller steps backwards, towards the wall directly across my cubicle.

"I can see you've changed," Mr. Palmer said to her spitefully. "You're bolder, more sure of yourself," he continued. He squinted as he looked straight into her eyes. He was closing in on my mom. I started to tremble. When he was less than a foot away from my mom, he suddenly grabbed her ponytail, pulled it down, and shoved her hard against the wall! My mom groaned in pain and shock as the back of her head hit the granite-tiled wall. I began to cry in panic, tears flowing down my pale cheeks.

"You think you can stand up to me now? Huh? You think just because you have a billionaire boyfriend backing you up you can scare me now?" Mr. Palmer sneered, his other hand now clutching my mom's shoulder in a death grip and pinning her against the wall. "Go ahead, cry for help, like a damsel in distress! Your knight in shining armor can't hear you." He laughed scornfully.

Just then, the door of the restroom swung open and Thea Queen walked in on the scene. Her face was taken over by shock… and then fury… when she saw Mr. Palmer pinning my mom against the wall. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Thea screamed.

Mr. Palmer had had his back against the door, so he didn't see Thea come in.

"Get your hands off her!" Thea screeched again, but she remained frozen where she was standing.

When Mr. Palmer realized he had been caught in the act of physically abusing my mom, he let go of her instantly. As he turned to walk away, he said to her, "We are not finished yet." And then he stormed out of the restroom.

Thea rushed to my mother and said to her, "Are you okay?" That was when my mom broke down crying.

"I… I am now… Thank you for… coming… just in time," Mom managed to say in between sobs. "I don't know what could have happened if you hadn't shown up."

"I was on my way to see Oliver, but I decided to stop by the restroom. I'm so glad I took the time," Thea said.

Mom was trembling, just as I was. Her whole body was racked by tremors, as if her mind and body had automatically recognized a familiar violent threat, no matter how long ago the last incident had been. She was responding to the situation as if she had – for some time in the past – experienced what it meant to be bullied, intimidated, and maltreated. She slid down with her back against the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Thea was still holding on to both her arms, trying to comfort her. For a while, Mom was crouched on the floor in fetal position. She was hyperventilating as she cried.

"Shh… it's okay now." Thea must have recognized the signs of emotional and psychological trauma, because it didn't take long before she asked, very carefully, "Felicity… has… has Palmer done this to you before?"

When my mom began to calm down, she nodded repeatedly and then answered, "Multiple times. Started when we were dating. And then it became more frequent when we were already a couple."

"What?!"

"Thea!" my mom interrupted her. "Please don't tell Oliver. Please don't tell anybody," my mom begged her.

"But we have to tell Ollie. If he finds out that I know something as important as this and didn't tell him, he'll never forgive me."

"My parents don't even know. Ray might come after Emily." My mother was definitely frightened.

"I don't know, Felicity. Keeping quiet about something like this doesn't seem right!" Thea reasoned.

I don't know what had gotten into me, but somehow in my young mind, I understood that Thea was right. I didn't want my mom to keep being scared. I rubbed my eyes and wiped away my tears with my sleeves. And then I got out of my hiding place and said, "Mom, please tell Oliver, please!" And then I ran to her, knelt down on the floor, and hugged her neck. After we both cried, my mom said, "All right, sweetie. Maybe you and Thea are right. It's about time Mom faces her fears." Thea and I smiled.

We helped my mom up to her feet. Thea examined my mom's right shoulder. She rolled up the sleeve and saw bruises marking the grip of Mr. Palmer's hand. When my mom put her hand at the back of her head, Thea reached for the same spot and felt a big bump still growing. When she withdrew her hand and saw fresh blood, she realized that my mom's head was bleeding. Upon closer examination of the head injury, Thea said, "The cut's not deep. Shouldn't need stitches, but we have to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. Come on, let's go to Ollie's office. He has some ice cubes in his fridge."

Slowly, the three of us walked back to Oliver's office, Thea supporting most of Mom's weight. She held Mom up with a hand tightly fastened around Mom's waist. Her other hand gripped Mom's arm, which was slung around her shoulder.

Oliver was already at his desk, writing something. But as soon as we were within viewing distance through the glass wall, he looked up. His reflexes quickly recognized the emergency and responded to the situation. He sprinted across his office, pushed the glass door open, and scooped Mom into his arms. Mr. Diggle sprung to his feet to help, but Oliver was already laying Mom down on the couch. "Dig, call the infirmary and get Dr. Snow to come up," he ordered. The tall, burly bodyguard straight away did as he was told.

"What happened?" Oliver asked with concern. He glanced at his sister, waiting for an answer. His eyes and hands were immediately at work, trying to check my mom for injuries.

"Palmer," Thea replied concisely. She looked at her brother, and with just a few seconds of silence, Oliver understood what she meant.

"Where is he?" Oliver asked, his voice laced with rage, his teeth grinding.

My mom sensed what Oliver had wanted to do at that moment. Just as he stood up, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to kneel beside her. "Oliver, don't. Stay with me."

"But he hurt you! He crossed the line, and I can't let that-"

"It's okay now. I'm okay. Don't do anything you'll regret," Mom added.

Thea placed her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Ollie, we'll get him another way. The right way."

Oliver shut his eyes for a while and pressed his lips hard. "Fine. But I am not letting this go. We can't let him get away with this." When he calmed down, Thea went to the fridge in the corner of the office and prepared an improvised ice pack.

Oliver touched my mom's shoulder to comfort and caress her, but she flinched. He let go, and then he rolled up her sleeve. He sighed deeply upon seeing her bruised shoulder. Thea came back with the ice pack and handed it to Oliver, showing him the spot on Mom's head where he should put it. When he felt the huge bump, he placed the ice pack over it, resting the pack on a throw pillow. And then, he saw blood on his hand.

Oliver took a deep breath. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry," Oliver said softly.

"Don't be. This isn't your fault," Mom responded.

"Yes, it is. I said I'd keep an eye on you," he said, shaking his head regretfully. "If I had been there, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't blame yourself, Ollie," Thea butt in. "Palmer is an as-"

"Thea, don't. Not in front of my daughter," my mom cut her short.

"Well, he is!" Thea retorted.

Oliver cupped my mom's face in his hands and kissed her lips briefly but sweetly. And then he said, "We'll get him. I promise."

Mr. Diggle arrived just then, with QC's in-house doctor and nurse. Oliver and Thea backed away to give them room to work. They treated her head injury and continued to apply cold compress on both her head and bruised shoulder. Afterwards, the doctor told Oliver, "Mr. Queen, I highly recommend that you bring Ms. Smoak to Starling General for a scan. You know, just to be sure she doesn't have a concussion. That is a pretty big bump she's got there. It's always better to be on the safe side."

"Thank you, doctor. I'll do that," Oliver said gratefully. "Oh, and Dr. Snow, could you please write up a medical report and send it to me within the day?"

"Sure. In that case, let me just take a few pictures of her injuries so that I can include them in my report. I'll have it emailed to you before the day ends," Dr. Snow promised.

"Thanks again. And Caitlin…" Oliver paused. "It is Caitlin, right, Dr. Snow?"

"Yes, Mr. Queen." The female doctor smiled courteously.

"I need one more favor from you. I'd really appreciate it if you and your staff at the infirmary could keep this matter confidential. It's a sensitive issue."

"I understand, sir. You can count on us. If you need my assistance on this matter in the future, I'm more than willing to help. This won't be the first time I'd have to appear in court to testify."

"Good. I appreciate that. Thank you, Dr. Snow."

After taking pictures of Mom's injuries using her cell phone, Dr. Snow and the nurse left. That was when Thea spoke up.

"Know what? I'm glad what happened, happened. Coz now you have something against Palmer that really holds up in court. I'd like to see him file for child custody now." Thea grinned, realizing how that morning's unpleasant incident could turn out for the good of Felicity and Emily… and in effect, for the good of her beloved brother.

Thea turned towards my mom and said, "Felicity, don't you have something to say to Ollie?" Thea gave my mom a knowing look, deliberately coaxing her to tell her brother the whole truth.

Mom sat up and put down the ice pack on the coffee table. She glanced at Oliver and motioned for him to sit beside her on the couch. He did. For a full minute, she didn't know how to say what she wanted to say to him. But Oliver patiently waited. Tears fell from her eyes, like cold water dripping slowly from a melting icicle. She took a deep breath, and then began to speak.

"Oliver… I haven't been… totally honest with you. And I'm so sorry. Remember when Tommy Merlyn mentioned that there was one way to keep Ray from sharing custody of Emily?" Oliver nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. "I could have told you then, but I didn't. I was afraid."

"Of what?" Oliver asked.

"Of the truth," Mom replied. "I told you before that I never ran after Ray when he rejected me and my baby because I knew he was an idiot and a lunatic. But… I… I didn't tell you that he was also violent."

Oliver's hand found its way to my mom's hand. Their fingers intertwined into one tight grip. His warm touch gave her the courage she needed to go on.

"From the time Ray and I were dating regularly until the time I found out I was pregnant, Ray would sometimes hurt me when he got real mad, even if he wasn't mad at me. Each time it happened, he would apologize, bring me flowers, or take me on an expensive trip. He promised me the moon, and I believed him even if at times he was mean and nasty to me. Because I was in love with him, I convinced myself that staying in the relationship was the best way to help him change."

Tears welled up in Oliver's eyes. He let go of her hand, and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. He reached out with his other hand and began rubbing circles on her knee to comfort her. He said, "Felicity, I promise you… he will never… ever… lay a hand on you again."

Suddenly, Mr. Diggle spoke up. "Can you prove all this, Ms. Smoak?"

"Yeah, Dig's right." Thea agreed. "If you plan to use domestic violence as an argument against Palmer during child custody hearings, you've got to have hard evidence. Or it will just be your word against his."

"Well… I never told my parents about it. Never told a soul. Except… I visited the E.R. twice in Boston and met with a professional counselor a few times," my mom clarified.

"I don't think the counselor is of any use. Counselor-client confidentiality," Mr. Diggle remarked. "But the E.R. in Boston… I'm sure they have records."

"I think so. They took pictures of me both times. The doctors who treated me tried to convince me to press charges, but I refused," Mom replied with much regret and sadness. "But I guess, now it's different. I have a daughter to fight for. I can't let him share custody of Emily – legally or physically."

Just before lunch, Mr. Diggle and Oliver took Mom to the hospital for the scan and some tests. After the doctors had declared her tests negative, they discharged her, and they met up with Thea and me at Big Belly Burger. After all the commotion, we all deserved a scrumptious meal.

As we enjoyed our burgers, fries, and milkshakes, I gazed at my beautiful mother. I saw the patch of white gauze taped to the back of her head, and I remembered how much she had suffered in the past. I was glad Oliver was now fighting for her. I was glad she was now fighting for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think?


	16. Backlash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver asks his former father-in-law, police captain Lance, and Walter Steele for help regarding their problems with Palmer, who mysteriously evades arrest, because someone tips him off. More secrets surface, this time from Oliver's past.

Emily:

After lunch at Big Belly Burger's, we picked up Stephen from school. Oliver then instructed Mr. Diggle to head for our apartment, where Thea would be watching over me for the rest of the afternoon. He and Mom were going to the police precinct to formally file a complaint against Mr. Palmer, and they decided that it wasn't exactly a place a three-year-old should hang out at. Thea was very nice about it and agreed to babysit while they were gone.

Stephen:

I, on the other hand, begged my dad to let me come along. I'd missed my grandfather and hadn't seen him for quite some time. Gramps was a very busy man, and hardly had the time to drop by the Queen mansion to visit us. You see, he's Captain Quentin Lance, the big guy of the police force of the 24th precinct in Starling City. He used to be just a detective, but because he was brave and outstanding in his job, he got promoted some time after my mom passed away.

But I also know that the infrequent visits weren't only because he was busy with police stuff; it was also because the Queen mansion, Dad, and I were dismal reminders of Mom, his beloved eldest daughter, the one he lost to cancer. When mom got sick, he came almost every day to visit and often times even stayed over for a night or two, helping to take care of her. He practically lived with us all those months. Aunt Sara, my mom's younger sister, lived in the east coast because she worked as a special agent for the FBI in Quantico, Virginia; she came home only to attend her funeral. During last week's dinner, we heard from Uncle Tommy that just last year, Aunt Sara came back for good. It turns out Gramps had convinced her to ask for a transfer to the FBI headquarters in Central City, which was only about an hour or so away from Starling City, so that she could be closer to family. I figured Gramps had already lost one daughter, so he had wanted his other daughter close by.

When we got to the precinct, I immediately headed for my grandfather's office.

"Hey, Stephen! What are you doing here, buddy?" my grandpa said excitedly as I rushed to give him a nice big hug.

"Missed you, Gramps!" I replied as he ruffled my hair. He looked at my face and became a bit teary-eyed. He had always said that my eyes and my features reminded him of Mom.

When my grandpa looked up, Dad and Felicity were already at the door of his office.

"Good afternoon, Quentin," my Dad greeted him quite formally.

"Didn't expect you to walk into my office today, Queen," was my grandpa's response to Dad's courtesy.

"Me neither," Dad remarked. "It's just that I really need your help with something… someone, rather."

"Anything I can do to help," Gramps replied. "What's this about?"

"Quentin, I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Felicity Smoak. Felicity, this is Captain Quentin Lance. He's my father-in-law, Laurel's dad."

"It's nice to meet you, Captain Lance," Felicity said, "although I would have preferred meeting you under different circumstances."

"We don't want to take much of your time, Quentin," Dad said, "so I'll go straight to the point."

"Go on," Gramps said.

"Felicity would like to file a complaint against Ray Palmer, owner and CEO of Palmer Technologies based in Las Vegas. He was in my office this morning for a brief meeting. After the meeting, he attacked Felicity in the ladies room. And this wasn't exactly the first time he did," Oliver began to explain.

"That explains that thing on her head," Gramps remarked. "Do you have a medical report?"

"Yes," Dad answered. "Dr. Snow of QC's infirmary treated her injury, and then I brought her afterwards to the E.R. of Starling General. They did a CAT scan of her head and a couple of other tests. Dr. Snow and the E.R. resident on duty promised to have their reports ready by the end of the day. Dr. Snow also took some photos of her injuries. I'll have Diggle bring them over later."

"And you could also try to get the files of my visits to the E.R. of St. Mary's Hospital just outside Boston four or five years ago," Felicity added.

"Okay," my grandpa responded. He had this puzzled look on his face. For a while he hesitated, but still ended up giving in to the urge of quizzing Felicity. "I'm sorry, Ms. Smoak, but I gotta ask. What exactly is your relationship with Ray Palmer?"

Felicity cleared her throat and spoke, "He and I were a couple… back in Boston, and then in Vegas. We never married, but he's the father of my little girl. Recently, QC and Palmer Tech have been trying to strike a business deal, and because I work for QC, we crossed paths. He learned about Oliver and me… and suddenly… he started to show interest in my daughter… even though he had wanted nothing to do with us from the very beginning. He's an arrogant, pig-headed monster who's only out to destroy competition and who doesn't take no for an answer. I'm sorry for the language, Captain Lance. But that's exactly what he is." Felicity looked down and bit her lip. She was embarrassed about having to tell her story to a total stranger, but she felt better once my dad put his arm around her shoulder.

"That, I understand. I see this sort of thing all the time," my grandfather said as he walked over to her and touched her elbow. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ms. Smoak. This is not your fault." He then stepped back and sat on the edge of his desk. "I'm guessing this is the first time you're filing a complaint?"

Felicity nodded.

"It doesn't matter. We can still hold him liable for physical abuse. Your affidavit and the medical reports are enough to get this case going. Do you have witnesses?" my grandpa asked.

"Yes, my sister walked in on the scene and caught him pinning her against the wall," Dad explained.

"Then we'll have to get her statement, too. She can come by later or tomorrow morning, whichever is convenient for her. It would be nice to see Thea," Grandpa smiled. "If there's nothing else, then I'll escort you to that police officer over there. She'll take your statement and get the paperwork started," he said, pointing to a heavily built female police officer with brunette hair just outside his office.

My dad took a deep breath, put his hands in his pockets, and then said, "There's one more thing, Quentin. And… I hope it's not too much to ask."

"Shoot."

"I hope… there's something you can do to keep the press out of this? I need to protect Felicity. I hope you understand. It's me asking, and I hardly ever ask." I could see humility and sincerity in Dad's eyes. He wasn't just asking; he was pleading.

"Sure. I'll take care of it. You're family." My grandpa was just as humble and sincere as my dad. Both men shook hands, and then Gramps yanked my dad by the hand and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I don't visit very often. But I do miss Stephen and you… son," he said softly, before he let go.

We stepped out of Captain Lance's office. I was proud of my grandfather. He was a good man.

Emily:

After filing the police report, Oliver and Stephen brought my mom home. I said goodbye to Thea and thanked her for babysitting me. It had been a long day, so Mom settled for microwavable TV dinners – something she would do only if she's really, really tired and stressed out. She wasn't just tired, she still felt a bit dizzy coz of her head injury, and her bruised shoulder still ached. So, we washed up and went to bed early and were sound asleep within minutes.

When I woke up the next morning and headed for breakfast, I was pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Diggle enjoying my mom's pancakes. "Hi, Dig!" I greeted. Mr. Diggle picked me up and put me on his lap. That's where I spent the rest of breakfast time – on his lap. I loved Mr. Diggle.

"I still can't believe Oliver ordered you to be my bodyguard. He didn't have to," my mom said, drying the dishes she had just washed.

"Just for the time being. Captain Lance is serving the warrant for his arrest later today, so it's better this way. Oliver thinks Palmer might not like spending some jail time – even just for a few hours – so he wants us prepared for possible backlash that could harm you or Emily," Mr. Diggle explained. "He wants to keep you safe."

"And who's keeping him safe?" she asked.

"Oliver's a big guy. He can take care of himself," he answered. "Sometimes I wonder why he still keeps me around, you know. Seriously, he can handle himself."

"Maybe it's the company he prefers to keep," Mom remarked with a warm smile on her face. "You're a good friend, John."

Mr. Diggle kept us company that entire weekend, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. That was supposed to be good news for all of us, but it wasn't. The police weren't able to arrest Mr. Palmer for attacking my mom because he had skipped town. When they got to his hotel, he was nowhere to be found. When they asked airport authorities, they found that Palmer's private jet had not left the hanger where it had been for more than a week. Palmer was nowhere to be found. That was bad news. Very bad news.

Stephen:

For the Smoaks, the weekend had been, thankfully, uneventful. But for the Queens, the weekend was a battlefield. My dad tried twice to explain – argue, rather – to my grandmother why Queen Consolidated should not push through with the business deal with Palmer Technologies. He didn't stop at pointing out how Ray Palmer shrewdly misrepresented his company's capabilities by manipulating quantitative and qualitative data in the feasibility study – something that Felicity had ingeniously exposed. He also revealed that Palmer was a violent man with ulterior motives, capable of underhanded schemes, and therefore, couldn't be trusted. He even showed Grandma the medical reports, the police report, and the pictures of Felicity's injuries. But after the second attempt, which was even louder and "bloodier" than the first argument, Dad held up his arms in the air in surrender and sheer frustration.

"I can't believe you would still consider partnering with Palmer Tech despite the fact that it has a fugitive for a CEO! You're not making any sense, Mom!" He stormed out of Grandma's room, fuming mad.

I was waiting just outside Grandma's room in the hallway. As soon as Dad passed by, I stood up and said, "Didn't go as planned, huh, Dad?"

"It's none of your business! Go to your room!" he yelled. I was hurt. But I was determined to help.

"Dad?" I attempted to get through to him before obeying his order. "I don't think you're angry with me, so… could you please just hear me out?" I said slowly in a soft, calm voice.

The angry expression on my dad's face suddenly changed. His frown was replaced by guilt and sadness. "I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to yell at you. You're not the one I'm mad at. What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

"It's okay, Dad," I replied. "I just thought that maybe Grandma would listen to Walter. Walter Steele. She always listens to what he says, even when Grandpa was still alive. She trusts him. Maybe if you convince him about Palmer, he can convince her, too."

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Dad remarked, sadness slowly disappearing on his face. "Go on to your room. I'm going to give Walter a call."

Dad spent the entire afternoon that Sunday conversing with Walter Steele. Walter was not a difficult man to persuade, especially after Dad had Felicity email him all pertinent files of the corrupted data and anything else she could dig up on Palmer Tech that was relevant. That very night, Walter came over and talked with Grandma over dinner. By dessert, he had won her over.

Dad didn't know how else to express his gratitude to Walter Steele for his help except to say, "If you ever need my help about anything, Walter, please… don't hesitate to ask."

"Don't worry about it, Oliver. You don't owe me anything. As chairman of the Board, it is my duty to protect the interests of the company, and you folks are like family to me. I'm more than happy to help," said the older man, as my Dad and I walked him to his car.

Before he got into his car, he said one more thing, "I'll call the other Board members first thing tomorrow morning and convene a special meeting just before lunch. There we can have Felicity present all the facts, and then I'll move to withdraw all transactions with Palmer Tech. I'm sure Benson will second the motion, and everybody else will vote in favor."

"Thanks again," Dad responded. "This really means a lot to me."

Walter Steele made good on his promise the next day. He was able to schedule a special board meeting that same morning. Felicity was there, impressing the Board with her presentation inside the conference room next to my dad's office. (Of course, Emily was there, too. I had a playmate to liven up what would have been a pretty boring day around boring business executives.) It didn't take too long for the board members to decide in favor of Walter's motion. Not one of them thought that continuing a partnership with a company run by a leader who couldn't be trusted was advantageous to Queen Consolidated. My dad was pleased. Very pleased. He immediately had his executive assistant prepare the paperwork to formalize the Board's decision, so that these could be emailed a.s.a.p. to Palmer Tech.

While waiting for that to get done, Dad ordered some Chinese and had them delivered to his office for lunch. By the time we finished eating and were ready to crack open our fortune cookies, Dad's assistant came in to report that she had already finished the paperwork and emailed them to Palmer Tech. My dad thanked her and sent her off on an extended lunch break.

Emily:

While Stephen and I played online games on his Dad's office computer, Mom and Oliver were sitting together on the couch in the lounge area of the huge office. I couldn't help but overhear them talking, exchanging theories about how Palmer could have known that the police were about to arrest him.

"How do you suppose Ray found out that we pressed charges and that the police were after him?" Mom asked Oliver.

"Someone must have tipped him off."

"Any idea who that could be?"

"Honestly, no."

"Could it be someone from the precinct?"

"Could be. But I doubt it," Oliver replied. "That doesn't really matter. My concern is your safety. I sure hope the police can find him and bring him into custody. Diggle can't watch you forever, but I can ask him to if that's what it takes."

"I'm sure Captain Lance is doing everything he can to find him," Mom said. She leaned over to him and enveloped him in her arms. "We'll be okay. I doubt he'll try anything, now that the police can tag him as a principal suspect if anything bad happens to me, Emily, or you."

"I sure hope so," he said.

"Why don't I try to find him?" Mom's eyes glistened with excitement. "I used to do some hacking back in my college days. I think I still have it in me to-"

"You are so not doing anything of that sort, babe," Oliver interrupted her in disapproval.

"Why not?" Mom unlocked her arms from the embrace and put both her hands on her waist.

"Because if you get caught, the police will be after you," he remarked.

"If I get caught," she retorted.

"Fe-li-ci-ty!" He said each syllable sternly, as if he were scolding a child. That was all it took to shut her up. Once again, she leaned over and rested her chin on his shoulder. She slid one arm behind him and placed her other hand on his chest. "I got it. No hacking for me." She pressed her lips tight and cast him a sheepish grin.

"Good girl," he said, giving her a peck on her nose.

Stephen:

Just then, the indefatigably annoying Isabel Rochev walked into my dad's office. When she saw Dad and Felicity cuddling comfortably on the couch, she raised an eyebrow and cleared her throat intentionally louder than normal. The two lovebirds straightened up and turned towards the glass door.

"Excuse me," Isabel said, her face was like Cruella de Ville's (without the black and white stripes). "I have a message from Ray Palmer." She put her body weight on one leg, placed one hand on her hip, and struck a supermodel pose.

"Isabel… I didn't realize you and Palmer knew each other well enough for you to be his personal messenger," my dad remarked with sarcasm as he and Felicity stood up to face her.

"Let's just say we've become good friends in such a short time," Isabel replied.

"Good enough for you to harbor a fugitive?" Felicity cut in.

Isabel did not answer her question. She just crossed her arms in front of her chest and ignored it. After a couple of seconds, she said, "Ray is willing to call a ceasefire. He says he'll back off and leave you and your daughter alone if you'll drop the abuse and assault charges. He says he's not willing to lose everything he's worked hard for. He's also accepting the decision of QC's Board to withdraw from the business deal with his company."

"A ceasefire is not good enough. What we want is for him to walk away for good. Tell him that," Felicity responded.

"No. What we want is for him to be brought to justice and face the consequences of his actions," my dad said assertively.

Felicity looked at her boyfriend with an expression of hesitation on her face. It was obvious that she was either disagreeing with his position or having second-thoughts. "Are you sure about this, Oliver? I mean, if I just drop the charges, he'll be out of our lives, and we never have to go to court and endure those long, stressful proceedings that might drag on forever. The controversies will surely affect the reputation of your family."

"Is that what you want?" Dad asked her, "The easy way out? After everything he's done to you, you're just gonna let him walk?!"

"Why not? That way there are less complications," Felicity replied.

"Oh, come on, you two! I can't believe you're arguing in front of me. Make up your minds, will you?!" Isabel laughed and poked fun at them.

My dad took a deep breath and gently held his girlfriend by her elbow. "He needs to be brought to justice, Felicity, or he could do the same thing to someone else. Three years ago, you just walked away, thinking that you'll be safe because you'll never have to see him again. How can you be so sure he won't threaten you or hurt you ever again if you let him off the hook this time?"

Felicity swallowed hard and shrugged her shoulders, and then she sat down. "I… I can't be sure. Ray is like the ghost of my past that won't every go away." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"So… what's it gonna be?" Isabel asked, her patience running thin. "I don't have all day."

My dad looked at Felicity. He didn't fully understand why Ray Palmer had such a powerful hold on her. He noticed her hands trembling as she tried to hold back more tears from flowing down her face, so he went closer and sat beside her. He took both her cold, pale hands into his warm, steady ones, and then he said, "I don't agree with you, Felicity. But if you decide to take Palmer's offer, I'll support you. All the way."

Felicity looked at him with respect and admiration. She drew strength from him. He had become her candle of hope, a beacon of light in her darkest night. His kindness, unconditional love, and steadfastness had, at that very moment, helped her mind focus and her heart gain understanding.

She closed her eyes and wet her lips, and then she stood up. She opened her tender lips and spoke… with all the courage and confidence she could muster from within her soul.

"It's almost too good to be true that Ray would even consider negotiating a ceasefire, let alone accept surrender this way. But… here's the deal. And make sure you get every word I say, Isabel, because I'm only going to say this once. You tell Ray that I will drop the charges against him if… one, he promises to stay out of our lives forever; two, he signs a legal document waiving all of his rights to physical and legal custody of Emily; and three, he gets professional help for his anger and violence issues under the supervision of a legal arbiter from a family court in Starling City or in Vegas. If he does not follow through with my conditions, I will not only petition the court for a restraining order against him – which I know will be granted because there's more than enough evidence to convince any judge in his right mind; I will also file criminal charges against him for abuse and assault – and believe me when I say this – I will not stop until he has spent his last dollar on appeals, trying to keep himself from landing in the state penitentiary where there are too many predators ten times more vicious than he is just waiting for a pompous billionaire like him to prey on… Did you get all that?"

Everybody's jaw dropped except Felicity's. It's like when you hit pause while watching a shocking video. Emily and I stopped playing our online game and just stared at her. Isabel couldn't speak. She just stood there, frozen and bewildered.

But Dad, he stood, tall and proud, even if he was dumbfounded. He had never been more pleased with Felicity's ramblings as he had been at that moment. "Where did she get all that?" he must have thought. He had never met a wiser yet a more compassionate person in all his life. Her conditions were reasonable, yet firm and resolute. And even in her desire to exhaust all her legal options just to keep him away from her and her daughter, she still cared enough to think about the possibility of Ray Palmer changing to become a better person if he sought help.

Emily:

When Isabel had finally recovered from the barrage of my mom's words, she said with a poker face, "I'll need all that in writing before the afternoon ends. I'll make sure Ray gets them. Oh… and Oliver, I also wanted to let you know that you will have my resignation on your desk by tomorrow morning. I'm moving to Vegas to work for Ray."

"That's fine," Oliver responded. "And you'll have my signature even before you leave my office tomorrow."

"Hmp!" was all Isabel could say.

As soon as Isabel turned around and started walking towards the glass door, Oliver reached for my mom and pulled her in for a deep kiss. It was a kiss of admiration and wonder, a reward for a job well done.

Stephen:

After a couple of seconds, he pulled back and just looked into her glinting eyes, saying, "I'm proud of you." She cupped his jaw with her right hand and massaged his stubble with her thumb.

Isabel made it out the door, but then she stopped, her head slightly tilting to one side. It seemed like a diabolical thought had just popped into her head – an idea that would salvage her and her new boss from utter defeat and humiliation. Backlash. She turned around ever so gracefully and walked back towards the open door.

"Oh, by the way, Oliver," she spoke with venomous lips, "Say hello to Sandra Hawke for me. I'm sure that she and your son, Connor, would be pleased to make Felicity's acquaintance. Goodbye." With that, Isabel Rochev disappeared. For good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how did you like feisty Felicity?  
> How do you think she'll take the news about Oliver's "other" son? Like how it happened on the show?


	17. Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of Oliver's past affect his relationships - with his mother and with the woman he loves. Felicity presents an earnest request that breaks both their hearts.

Emily:

When Isabel said goodbye and left, Mom pulled away from Oliver. With her arms crossed in front of her, her hands holding on to both her shoulders, she looked down and shut her eyes. When she looked up again after taking a deep breath, the expression on her face revealed her broken heart. Her eyes were like wide open windows to her wounded soul. She must have felt betrayed and bitter. For the first time since they had taken their relationship to the level of commitment, doubt crept into her aching heart. Oliver appeared to have kept something from her – something that she deserved to know before she even considered committing to a more serious relationship. "Had he lied to me all this time? What else is he not telling me?" Mom must have thought. Although she was hurting deep inside, for some reason the tears didn't come.

She swallowed hard, her hands still clinging to her shoulders, arms crossed, as if trying to comfort herself through a tight embrace. She looked at Oliver with searching eyes and asked, "Oliver, who is Sandra Hawke?"

Oliver couldn't look into her eyes. He was looking down at the floor, his hands on his sides, balled into tight fists. His thumbs were rubbing against his knuckles. When he looked up again after taking a deep breath, the expression on his face revealed his broken heart. His eyes were like wide open windows to his wounded soul. He must have felt ashamed and weighed down by guilt. For the first time since they had taken their relationship to the level of commitment, doubt crept into his aching heart. My mom appeared betrayed that he had kept something from her – something that she deserved to know before she even considered committing to a more serious relationship. "Does she think that I had been lying to her all this time? Would she still trust me?" Oliver must have thought. Unlike hers, his tears came.

Oliver's eyes pooled with tears as he replied, "Sandra Hawke was… a one-night stand. There was a… frat party… in college. Got her pregnant, but…" As he spoke in fragments, his voice kept breaking, trailing off until he completely stopped.

"And Connor?" Mom asked again.

"I didn't know about him until now," he began to answer. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the tears that started to fall down from the corner of his eyes. "A week after Sandra told me she was pregnant, she left Starling. I didn't know where to find her. And then… three months later, she wrote me a letter with no return address, saying that she had a miscarriage. She had lost the baby… my child."

Oliver paused. He bit his lip as another tear oozed out the corner of his eye. "Felicity, please… believe me. I didn't know I had a child… another son."

Stephen:

I believed him. I, too, didn't know I had an older brother. I remember thinking right then and there, "If I'm counting right, Connor would be about eleven or twelve by now. Wow! I have a big brother."

Felicity wanted to believe him, too. I could see it in her eyes. Her eyelids twitched, as the battle between doubt and faith raged on fiercely. Her hands let go of her shoulders, and she bent over to pick up her purse on the couch.

"I need to get away… from here… from you," she said.

"Felicity, baby… please…" Oliver begged her to stay.

"Please let me go," she replied. "I just want to go home and be alone… for now… please."

She walked over to Emily. "It's time to go, sweetie. Come along," she said, as she helped the little blonde put on her jacket.

Mother and daughter walked towards the glass door of Dad's office. Just as Felicity grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, she looked over her shoulder and said to my dad, "Oliver, please don't call… or text. I'll see you at the park Friday afternoon."

"Okay. I'll text Diggle to take you home," my dad said. His voice was low and sullen.

I felt low and sullen myself. It was just Monday. That meant we wouldn't be seeing our girls for four long days. Did she really need that long to think things through? I felt so sorry for my dad. I was sure he'd be miserable all week.

"That's all right, but thanks. I feel like taking a cab this time," Felicity responded. Her voice was low and cold.

Emily:

I felt low and cold myself. I had sensed the trouble brewing between my mom and Oliver. The looks they exchanged in the last few minutes were strange. The fire and fondness were missing. Everything around us seemed gloomy – from the quiet elevator ride to the quieter taxi ride home.

Mom fixed an instant dinner of macaroni and cheese, which didn't taste like anything. That was a disappointment. It was as if dinner was trying to blend in with the lifelessness in the house that evening. Mom tidied up in the kitchen and then helped me get ready for bed. She let me read some bedtime books while she took a quick shower. When she came back, she tucked me in and whispered, "Love you, Ems. Always have, always will."

"Love you, too," I replied. And then with childlike curiosity I asked in the spur of the moment, "You still love Oliver, Mom?"

"Of course I do," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Coz you look sad. And he looked very sad. And you didn't kiss before we left," I said.

Mom didn't answer. She just smiled, so very slightly, and kissed me on my nose. She then walked away, turned off the lamp and switched on the night light. She left the door of my room slightly open and said, "Good night, Ems."

A few seconds later, she turned off the lamp in her room and the hallway became dark. That was when my mom started to cry. All the emotions she had held back since we left the Queens in the office broke through like flood waters smashing against a fortified concrete wall and breaking through its defenses. She was crying so hard I could hear her sniffs and sobs from my bedroom. I felt so sorry for my mom. I wondered what she would be saying in her prayers tonight. I fell asleep at the sound of her weeping.

Stephen:

The next four days rolled by as if they were four long years. Sometimes I'd find my dad just staring – staring at his phone, trying to decide whether or not to call his girlfriend. At other times, I'd still find him staring… at her picture… in his wallet. In front of me, he'd pretend that he didn't really miss her that much, or that he wasn't worried about what would happen next in their relationship. But I knew better.

He was devastated. In his eyes I saw something that I had never seen there before. Fear. I had never thought my dad was afraid of anything. But during that time, he really struggled with it. He must have been afraid she'd never speak to him again, or that she won't find it in her heart to forgive him. He must have been frightened that she wouldn't be able to accept that awful part of his past. He must have been scared that she'd break up with him. He must have been afraid to lose her. Whatever it was, Dad was fearful, and he fought the emotion hard to get him through until Friday.

Friday had come. After he and Diggle picked me up from school, we went straight to the park. Strangely though, Dad had asked Diggle to play ball with me. I took two baseball gloves and a ball from my knapsack and started throwing and catching with Diggle just a few meters away from Felicity's park bench.

Dad sat quietly on Felicity's park bench. Thinking. Hard. He sat with legs parted. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He placed his chin on his knuckles. His eyes were closed, and his forehead creased. After a while, I looked over to him, and he seemed to have fallen asleep because his eyes were still closed and he wasn't moving at all.

Just then, I saw Felicity and Emily coming towards us. Emily ran straight to where Diggle and I were playing ball. Felicity waved at me and smiled. When she had stood right in front of my dad, she said, "Hey, you're early."

Startled, my dad looked up. The startled look on his countenance immediately turned into one of relief when he saw her angelic face smiling down on him. He straightened up as she put down her bag and sat beside him. They both leaned against the back rest of the bench. For a few seconds, nothing happened. They just sat there. Silent and still.

Emily:

After I said hello to Stephen and Mr. Diggle, I sat down on the grass to watch them throw and catch. I was just a few feet away from where my mom and Oliver were seated, so I could clearly hear and see what was going on. For a few seconds, nothing happened. They just sat there. Silent and still.

After a while, Mom turned towards Oliver and said, "Thank you for waiting. I really appreciate it."

He turned towards her and said in response, "You're welcome." It seemed like Oliver didn't exactly know what to say, so all that came out of his mouth was, "I'm… I'm really happy to see you."

My mom sighed. "I'm really happy to see you, too, but…" She hesitated for a while, and then her voice got caught in her throat.

"But what?" Oliver asked.

"But I have to ask," she replied. "How come you never mentioned anything about Sandra Hawke? Don't you think that was a pretty important part of your life that I needed to know about?"

"In all honesty, I didn't. What happened between us didn't mean anything to me back then… when I was…" Oliver was too ashamed to say what he thought of himself during those years of fooling around and messing up not only his life, but also the lives of several girls he had never planned on having a serious relationship with.

His head hung low as he continued to say, "Like I said, it was just one night. And she was just another girl I had foolishly taken advantage of to satisfy my need for pleasure. I never thought it would change my life… her life… this way. After the same thing happened with Laurel, I hit rock bottom. I realized that what I had been doing was wrong... taking advantage of all those girls for very selfish reasons. I only wanted what I could get from them. I wasn't capable of love because I only cared about myself, my needs. I really regretted what I had done… and I've asked for forgiveness many times over."

"Whose forgiveness?" Mom asked.

"God's," Oliver replied. "I had wanted to apologize to Sandra, too, but I couldn't reach her. Didn't know where she had gone. You see, when she told me she was pregnant, I told her that I didn't love her and that I wasn't ready to be a father."

"Those were pretty harsh words. Did your mother know?"

"Yes. That same day when Sandra left the mansion after our talk, I went upstairs to my mother's room and told her everything. I was surprised that she didn't get angry. All she said was that she loved me very much, and that she would take care of everything. She never told me what happened after that, and I never thought to ask, especially after Sandra wrote me that she lost the baby."

"And does your mother know about Connor now?"

Oliver heaved a deep sigh. "When Stephen and I went home last Monday after you and Emily left, I spoke with my mom… Well, it was more of… more like… I confronted her about Sandra. She denied it at first, but eventually I was able to get the truth out of her… after giving her an ultimatum."

"A what?" Felicity asked perplexed.

"An ultimatum," he replied. "I told her that Stephen and I would pack our bags and leave that very night if she refused to tell me what really happened."

"Which was?"

"Uh… This is the hard part. I know my mother is cunning and shrewd. But I didn't realize until now that she could also be so heartless."

"What happened?"

"It turns out that my mom had paid off Sandra to lie. Mom promised that if she agreed to tell me that she had lost the baby, and that if she never showed her face again, that she and the child would be well taken care of. And that's where Isabel Rochev comes in."

"Isabel? I've been wondering how that, that nasty, conniving woman got into the picture."

"Isabel was one of the young and promising new recruits of the QC's accounting department back then, and she was my mom's favorite. Mom thought she could trust her, so Mom had her secretly channel company funds from different untraceable accounts on a regular basis to Sandra's account in Central City. No one had noticed because Isabel is good at covering her tracks. That's also why Mom had her promoted to chief of the accounting section – to make sure no one discovered this scheme."

"I can't imagine how your mother was able to live with that all these years. Makes you wonder how she copes with her conscience." Felicity just shook her head in disbelief. "Does she know where Sandra and her son are now?"

"I don't know. I think she doesn't even care," he answered.

"But you can find out, right? Isabel could have that information on file if she has data about Sandra's back account in Central City."

"Maybe… yes," Oliver speculated. "But why do you ask?"

Mom pressed her lips as she turned in her seat to face Oliver. She reached for his left hand and kissed his knuckles. And then she brought his hand close to her chest. There was wonder in Oliver's eyes. He didn't exactly understand what her gestures meant, but he was sure of how they made him feel – loved.

My mom smiled sincerely at him without parting her lips and said, "I ask because I believe you ought to see her… and your son… and at least try to make it work."

Oliver couldn't believe what he had just heard her say. "Felicity, what are you saying? I don't-"

"What I'm saying is that eleven or twelve years ago, Oliver Queen was a fool. He ran away from his responsibility to Sandra… and to his unborn child. But the Oliver Queen I know today? He's different." With his hand in her right hand still close to her chest, she reached forward with her left hand and caressed his stubble, tracing his jaw line with the smooth skin of her palm. "He's kind and compassionate. He's an honorable man." She then put both his hands on her lap and leaned forward a bit towards him. "And now that you know you have a son, I know you have it in you to do the right thing."

"I don't understand. You're breaking up with me? And you want me to be with her?" Oliver asked.

She nodded and said, "Something like that. Oliver, you have to. It's the right thing to do."

"But I can't!" Oliver exclaimed. "I love you! You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to marry you, Felicity. I want to have babies with you. Change diapers and go to school plays with you. I want to grow old with you. Watch our grandkids play. Die in your arms, or you in mine!"

"I know," Mom said, tears now welling up in her eyes. "And I had wanted all that, too, and more."

"So, why are you doing this? Sandra is living her own life by now. I doubt she even wants to have anything to do with me!"

"And what about Connor? He needs his father."

Oliver couldn't respond to that.

"All I'm saying is that you should at least try to make it work. Make something work. Find them. Get to know them. See what happens."

"But why?" he asked again, with more bitterness in his voice.

"Because I know how it feels," Mom said in all sincerity. "I know how it feels to be used and then rejected… by the father of your unborn child. I know how it feels to be alone, carrying a baby in your belly for nine months, wondering why its father shirked from the responsibility. I know how it feels to raise a child all by yourself knowing that in some other city or state, the man responsible for this is carrying on with his life while you struggle each day to make both ends meet. That's why."

"But I… I love you. And I want us to be happy… together," Oliver said softly and slowly, with even more pain than before.

"Oliver," my mom responded, "Love is not just a feeling. Love is commitment. It seeks what's best for the other person. It's not selfish. It patiently grows in time. The heart can be taught to care, if we set our minds on what's right and choose to do it whatever the cost. Real happiness comes in giving of ourselves, even if it hurts, when we realize that it is truly worth the sacrifice to truly love someone."

Oliver was quiet. He watched Felicity's tears fall on his hands, his arms, and her lap. One drop at a time. Then, he looked up and met her gaze. He nodded his head – an indication that he understood what she was trying to say to him, no matter how difficult it was to accept. His right hand broke free from the tight grip of her hand, and he reached forward to stroke her long, smooth golden locks. He would miss doing that every so often. He would miss caressing her soft, pinkish cheeks. He would miss embracing her and lifting her by the waist, swirling with her in the sunshine. He would miss sitting with her in this park bench every Friday just holding her hand. He would miss her laughter and her ramblings. Most of all, he would miss holding her close, brushing or pressing his lips against hers, feeling her warm breath and smelling her cherry blossom scent. Oh, how he loved her so.

"I'm willing to try," he said, as he rubbed her arm up and down, "because I love you, and you love me, and you believe in who I've become." He gazed at my mother in admiration and awe. She was the most unselfish, meekest, and wisest person he had ever known. The difficulties of life had been the crucible out of which she had come shining like gold and glistening like a diamond. She had become his most precious jewel.

"I love you, Oliver Queen," Mom whispered and smiled. "And whatever happens… however this turns out… I always will." Without hesitation, she leaned forward and slammed into him in a tight embrace. As she sobbed, she said softly and sweetly in his ear. "I'm letting you go to do the right thing. But I will wait for you, Oliver, no matter how long it takes. If I never get you back, I'd still be happy just loving you in my heart."

Stephen:

I didn't know which was sadder, the first Christmas season after my mom died, or this one. Felicity had not died, but it sure felt like she did. There were no more Fridays at the park and no more Big Belly Burger meals together. Oh, Felicity kept her job at QC, but other than business and work concerns, she and dad had decided they wouldn't communicate until he had straightened things out with Sandra and Connor Hawke.

For almost two weeks now, he and Diggle had been busy trying to locate mother and son. The last thing anyone in Starling that knew her had heard, she had indeed moved to Central City. So, my Dad decided that he and Diggle would spend the next two days there and see if any of the three addresses they had found would check out. He promised to be back the day before my birthday to help put up the Christmas tree and decorate it with me and Aunt Thea.

The night before my birthday, Dad and Diggle returned from Central City. I was already in my PJs, ready for bed, when they arrived. I heard the knock on my bedroom door and my dad's voice saying, "Stephen, I'm home! You still awake?"

"Yeah, Dad. Come in!" I got out of bed and dashed to the door just as my dad opened it. He immediately picked me up and gave me a bear hug. "So, how did it go?"

My dad grinned as he put me down. "We found them."

"That's great!" I shouted. We walked to my bed and sat down. "Tell me all about it, Dad."

"Well, Sandra still recognized me. She said I hadn't changed a bit, except for my stubble. She, on the other hand, had gained weight. A lot of weight," he said with a chuckle.

"What about my brother?" I asked with excitement.

"Connor? Well, he looks just like his mother, in the same way you look just like yours!" he replied. "He says he's anxious to meet you. Told him you both liked baseball and basketball."

"Cool! When can he come over?" I asked again.

"Spring break," Dad answered.

"I can't wait!" I said.

"Well, it's getting late. You need to go to bed. You can ask me more stuff tomorrow."

My dad tucked me into bed and kissed me good night. Before he stepped out of my room, I told him, "Call her, dad."

"Call who? Sandra?"

"Felicity. Tonight."

"Oh, I definitely will. First thing tomorrow morning," Dad said with a wide smile that revealed his pearly whites. When he said that, I knew he brought home good news. Very good news indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you have seen things in the same way Felicity did here?  
> Would you have done it the same way Oliver did?  
> Comments and reviews are welcome, especially encouraging and constructive ones.
> 
> P.S. At the time I wrote this chapter, the Arrow writers and the CW had not yet reintroduced Samantha and William Clayton in Season 4; hence, the use of the original names from the DC comics and that short scene in an earlier season when younger Oliver finds out about getting Sandra Hawke pregnant and telling Moira about it.


	18. The Glades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day before Christmas - Stephen's birthday. Oliver and Felicity agree to talk that night about the status of their relationship, but things take a turn for the worst, and they may never be able to have that talk after all.

Stephen:

I opened the door and peered into my dad's bedroom. The empty bed with the sheets all made up told me that he was already up and about, but I couldn't see where he was from my vantage point, so I went inside and shut the door. The sliding doors that separated the room from a small balcony were open, and beyond the light beige translucent curtains, I could see my dad's frame. He was sitting on his outdoor reclining chair, holding his phone. I sat down on the bed and decided not to let him know yet that I was there.

I could hear the sounds of the keys he pressed on his phone, so I knew he put it on speaker mode. He put the phone down on the glass-top table right beside him. Someone picked up after several rings.

"Hi!" Dad greeted.

"Oliver, it's the day before Christmas," the voice said. I could immediately tell it was Felicity. I smiled. "I thought Thea had cleared it through HRD that consultants didn't have to work day before Christmas," she said. Felicity sounded weird. Her words were carefully chosen to sound civil and professional, but the tone of her voice betrayed a tinge of longing.

"I'm not calling about work, Felicity," my dad replied.

"Well… in that case… I think it's better that we… that we not have this conversation," she said, sounding downcast and detached.

"Wait! Don't hang up just yet," my dad said.

"We've talked about this, Oliver. Talking like this won't help us move on, and-"

Dad straightened up and didn't let her finish. "I just came back last night from Central City. Felicity, I found Sandra and Connor. They're good."

"Oh…," was all Felicity could say. I couldn't tell from the sound of her voice whether she was happy about the news or not. My dad waited for her to say more, but she said nothing else. The suspense was killing me. I wanted to know the rest of Dad's story, and I also wanted to know how she would respond.

"Felicity?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," she said softly.

"Can I come see you?" Dad asked.

"Huh?"

It seemed to me that Felicity must have been in a daze. She sounded like she didn't have a clue how she should react to my dad's news. Was she pleased that my dad found the Hawkes? Was she anxious? Was she nervous and excited? I couldn't tell for sure.

"May I come see you… today… you know, so… I can tell you all about it?" Dad asked again.

"Today?"

"Yes, today. Is that okay?"

"But today is Stephen's birthday. Don't you have something special planned?"

Dad grinned. I grinned. She remembered my birthday! And we had only talked about it once.

"Well, yes, it is Stephen's birthday today, but we didn't have anything special planned."

"No Christmas Eve dinner at the Queen mansion?"

"No, not this year. Mom and I haven't really been talking much since… you know," Dad's voice showed a hint of sadness and regret.

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that."

A few seconds went by without either of them saying anything. I held my breath, but I was very pleased with what I heard her say next.

"Then… why don't you come over and bring him with you… tonight… for dinner?" Felicity said, her voice slightly becoming more relaxed and less formal. "We can talk afterwards while the kids watch TV or something."

"That's… a great idea." My dad tried to hide exactly how ecstatic he was about her invitation. I could tell he had wanted to shout out those few short words, but he held back. He must have been feeling his way through, knowing that Felicity might still be sensitive about the status of their relationship.

"All right, then. We'll see you two around six?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Dad confirmed.

There was now a hint of excitement in her voice, and my dad picked up on that, so he decided to keep the conversation going a little further.

"How is Emily?" he asked.

"She's fine. She misses you and Stephen, though. I'm sure she'll be delighted to know you're coming over for dinner."

I could already imagine Felicity's winsome smile coming back as she spoke from the other end of the line. I could see it clearly in my mind. I missed her smile, perhaps not half as much as my dad did.

Two weeks of not seeing her… of not touching her. Two weeks without heart-to-heart talks between them. Those two weeks were the longest, loneliest times he's had since he had gotten over my mom's death. It was like grieving over a terrible loss all over again. Those two weeks seemed like forever for him, but, it was different this time. He was sad and lonely, yes, but he didn't look like he was all depressed and hopeless. He hadn't been moping around feeling sorry for himself. On the contrary, he had been productive as a CEO and responsible as my parent. And then the rest of the time, he had been trying his best to find a solution to his problem about Sandra and Connor Hawke. In short, Dad manned up and did the right thing. I've never been more proud of him as I had been at that time. I guess, I have Felicity to thank for that.

"Well, tell her Stephen and I miss her, too," Dad remarked, and then, as if treading on shaky ground, he risked saying, "And I miss you… very much."

"Same here."

Her answer was brief, but it sounded so sweet and sincere. It was enough to make my dad's day. He beamed, as he turned to look towards the bedroom and was surprised to see me there. He stood up, picked up the phone, and started walking towards me, motioning me to take the phone and speak to her. "Hey, there's someone here who wants to talk to you," he said, handing me the phone.

"Hi, Felicity! We've missed you," I greeted.

"Hey there, Stephen! Emily and I have missed you, too," she greeted back. "And happy birthday! What are you now, nine?"

"Yes! You're good at birthdays."

"You bet, I am! You and your dad are coming over for dinner tonight. It'll be fried chicken and fries, the way you like it. I'm gonna toss up some salad and bake red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing and sprinkles on top. It's gonna be a birthday and Christmas celebration in one!"

There was no doubt about it. Our Felicity was back. I could hear the enthusiasm in her voice as she began to babble.

"Is there anything you want us to bring? Red wine, maybe?" Dad offered.

"Uhm… if you can find non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice, I think that would be better, so that the kids can join us for a Christmas Eve toast. Other than that, I think we're set!" she answered.

"Okay! Can't wait! I'm gonna go eat breakfast now. See you later," I said.

"Are you sure there's nothing else you'll need?" Dad asked.

"No, we're good. Hey, let's just talk some more later, ok? I'm actually in the bathroom right now. I was just about ready to step into the shower when you called," Felicity said, laughing a bit.

"The shower, huh? Sure would like to see you now," he muttered flirtatiously.

"Oliver Queen!? " Felicity almost yelled in protest and displeasure.

I jerked on my way to the door. I had heard what Dad had just said. Even I thought that remark was off. "Dad?!" I glared at him.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate," he apologized, his voice laced with embarrassment and regret. "I'm going to hang up now."

"Wait!" Felicity said. "Apology accepted."

"Thanks," Dad replied. "That's good to know."

"Look," she continued, "I know you just miss me a lot. But we still have to talk, remember? We don't know yet what will happen… about us. Until then, please… try to keep it together."

My dad grinned. Her wisdom continued to amaze him. "Yes, mam," he said.

"Now you can hang up. Bye." She hung up.

Emily:

Mom was busy all afternoon preparing for the big birthday-Christmas Eve dinner. I could tell she was very excited to have the guys over after quite some time. She was baking cupcakes, cutting up vegetables and potatoes, making salad dressing, and marinating chicken. Dinner was ready by 5:30. Mom and I had already finished dressing up when I started to have difficulty breathing.

"Mom, I need my puff," I told her. She picked me up from the living room floor and listened to me breathe with her ear pressed against my back.

"Yup, I think you do," she affirmed. Mom went to the medicine cabinet to get my anti-asthma medicine. She shook it vigorously and pressed. "Uh-oh… We're out of puff," she said in disappointment. "Sweetie, go get your jacket. It's on your bed. We need to go to CVS and get you a new puff before the guys arrive." Mom grabbed her purse, and in seconds, we were out the door.

It took us only ten minutes to get to CVS from our apartment and another ten minutes to get my prescription meds and pay at the cashier's. The trip back was complicated, though. Since the pharmacy was on a one-way street, we had always taken a different route going home. That night, because of the Christmas rush and an unfinished road work at the corner of Hunt and Adams, there was a detour that we had to take. Mom anxiously followed all the traffic signs, not sure where this new route led. She must have missed an important turn, because soon, she was driving into unfamiliar territory. Our GPS was busted, so Mom didn't know what to do. I could see her frowning by the time we realized that we had been circling the same three blocks for the last five minutes or so.

It was getting dark, and we were anxious to get home. "The guys must be almost there," Mom thought out loud. "Of all the days this could happen…" Mom shook her head.

She spotted a strange-looking lady on the sidewalk. The lady had orange hair and wore skimpy clothes and had put on loads of make-up that I thought she must have been hardly recognizable by her own family. Mom decided to pull over and ask for directions.

"Excuse me!" Mom said as she pressed a button that rolled down the window opposite the driver's. "Hi! I was wondering if you could help us? We're kinda lost. Where are we exactly? I don't see street signs anywhere."

As I looked more closely, I realized that the strange-looking lady was really just a teenager. She couldn't be more than eighteen years old. The young lady bent over until her face was framed by the open window of our car. "You're not from these parts, huh? Welcome to the Glades. Information will cost you," she said with a smug look on her face. She was chewing gum, so she talked funny.

My mom opened her purse and took out a five-dollar bill. "Here," she handed it over to the girl.

"Five bucks? Seriously?" The girl pulled back and started to walk away.

"Hey, wait!" Mom yelled. The girl turned back and saw my mom waving a twenty-dollar bill. She was about to grab it from my mom's hand when my mom pulled it back and said, "Not so fast! Not until you tell me exactly where we are and how we can go back to downtown Starling."

The girl rolled her eyes and then stopped chewing her gum. "Right now you're on Elm Street. See that first corner up ahead? That's Maple."

"How do we get back to downtown Starling?" Mom asked, leaning a bit closer to the girl.

"Sorry, lady. That information will cost you another twenty," the girl said. Suddenly, she leaned forward and grabbed the twenty-dollar bill from my mom's hand and ran away.

"Hey!" Mom screamed. She slammed her right hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. "Well, that's just great! Seems like what people have been saying about the Glades is actually true."

The Glades was that part of the city where the crime was high and employment was low. And so was police presence. Mom sighed and blurted out, "See, Emily, this is why Mommy never drives through the Glades since we've moved to Starling City. It's not safe here. We better get going. Mommy will just get help some other way."

I knew what she meant, and I was right. She rummaged through her purse and took out her phone. I watched her speed-dial Oliver. She was getting even more uptight when he wasn't answering. She was drumming her fingers on the dashboard, muttering, "Come on, come on, come on," like she was chanting or something. I was starting to feel nervous, too. She tried again, and this time, Oliver picked up after a few rings.

"Hi! Sorry I missed your first call. I was driving and I've just parked outside your building. We're coming up," he said.

"Uhm, you see, we're not there… and we need help," Mom said.

"What? Where are you?" he asked, puzzled.

"Emily was starting to have an asthma attack and her puff ran out. So we had to go out and grab a new one. Coming back, we followed a detour and ended up getting lost… here… in the Glades."

"The Glades?!" Oliver's reaction clearly showed how worried and upset he was. "Stay where you are. We're coming to get you. Where exactly are you?"

"My GPS is broken, and I don't really see any street signs. But the girl I asked said that we're on Elm Street, almost at the corner of Maple. Does that help?"

"I know the Glades like the back of my hand. I know Maple Street. That's where my dad's old foundry used to be. I'll call Diggle to meet us there. Stay inside the car. Lock the doors, and stay clear of the windows."

My mom didn't argue with Oliver. Concern was written all over her face. She knew Oliver wouldn't call Diggle for help if he didn't think it was necessary, especially since it was Christmas Eve. She understood what it meant when he specifically instructed her that we lock ourselves inside the car. This was not only a place where rude people lived. It was a dangerous place.

I looked around me. The streets were empty, except for maybe three or four punks who were smoking and drinking on the gutter not too far away from us. Not too many cars passed by; in fact, I didn't see one since we stopped to ask the girl for directions. The buildings near where we were seemed abandoned. Only one business establishment was open, right across the street where we were, and it was obviously a bar.

Mom pushed a button to lock the doors. She looked over her shoulder to me and smiled, somewhat relieved. "Hang on, Emily. Oliver's coming," she said reassuringly.

Just as she turned back to face front, a man's ugly face appeared just outside her window. Mom screeched! The black leather-clad man looked hideous. His hair was all spiky and greasy and… purple! He had several piercings on his face – some on his nose, his lips, his ears, and one on his right eyelid. His face was red with rage, and his eyes… his eyes were like the gateways to hell. I sensed evil around me, and I began to cry.

"Mommy? I'm scared."

"I know, sweetie. I need you to be very brave, ok? Oliver's coming. We'll be ok. Close your eyes, Ems. Don't look at his face." Mom tried her best to comfort me, but her voice wobbled, and I could feel fear coming over her as well.

The man began to growl, "Open up, blondie! Open up!" He started to bang against my mom's window with balled fists. He banged so hard I thought the windows were going to break, and they would have, if he hadn't stopped. Mom and I thought he was going to walk away when he stopped banging at the window. But no, he took out a knife from the pocket of his leather pants and started to work on unlocking the driver's door.

"Emily, keep your eyes closed!" Mom told me a second time. I hadn't obeyed the first time, so she had to use an even firmer voice. I saw the panic and horror on my mom's face even if she tried so hard to stay calm for my sake. She clung to her seat belt, looking helplessly at the man who was almost done with his threatening task.

"Mommy! Mommy!" I cried. Tears were streaming down my cheeks like a flood.

The man finally destroyed the lock and yanked the door open. He forced my mom to unfasten her seat belt and dragged her out of the car. "Help! Help! Somebody, help us!" my mom screamed at the top of her lungs.

The man forced her against the door of the car and held her by the hair. "No one can hear you, pretty face," he said with an eerie tone of voice. It was like something was wrong with his voice box. His voice was screechy and ghost-like. And even from inside the car, I could smell his foul breath. He was drunk all right. But there was something else in the aroma of his breath and sweat that I couldn't recognize. It wasn't just alcohol.

"Help! Please!" Mom cried out again. This time, the man grabbed her jaw and pressed his body against hers.

"I told you, pretty face… no one can hear you," he said, taunting her. "And even if people can hear you, no one will come to help you. This is the Glades. We can do whatever we want come nightfall." He then let out a sinister laugh.

"Please, just take my purse. Take all the money and valuables you can find. Just leave me and my daughter alone. We won't cause you any trouble!" my mom begged.

"Oh, I don't want your money, blondie. I want you!" he said, his blood-shot eyes widening with lust. "Your pretty face and silky smooth skin are whetting my appetite… and I've been hungry for some time now." He sneered as he drooled just a few inches away from her face.

"He doesn't want your money, but I do," another voice said. I looked and saw another man in black leather outfit walking towards our car. It seemed like the two men knew each other. But this other man was not drunk. "I'm sorry, miss. My friend here is drunk and high, and he's not thinking straight. I'm sure you've got plenty of green bucks in your purse, and I'm not about to pass that chance like he has." He laughed.

"Please, help us," my mom pleaded with the second stranger.

"I'm sorry, lady. I don't interfere with my friend's business. Things get pretty ugly between us when I do," the second stranger replied. He sat on the driver's seat and began inspecting the valuables inside the car and inside my mom's purse.

The evil-looking man dragged my mom towards the front of the car and slammed her down against the hood. "Mommy!" I screamed. The man was hurting her, but my mom wasn't screaming anymore. She must have thought that crying for help was useless. I looked around us. By that time, there was no one else there. There was just mom, me, and the two men who were harming us. "Mommy!" I cried.

"Shut up!" the second stranger yelled at me. But I kept crying.

"Please don't do this," my mom cried, begging for the man to stop and let her go. From the back seat, I watched that wicked man running his dirty hands up and down her thigh and attempting to kiss her neck. She fought her attacker with all her might. "No, please! Get your hands off me! No!"

The man slapped her hard across her face, and she fell down hard against the hood of the car again. "Mommy!" I screamed again.

"Please, mister," my mom begged for the last time, as she was almost ready to give up fighting this losing battle. "Please! Not in front of my little girl," she said, weeping.

The man looked at her, and then he looked around. The darkness over Elm Street added to the horror we were already enduring. I was terrified… even more terrified when I saw the man spot a dark alley a few feet away. I knew what he was going to do.

Stephen:

My dad sped through the streets of Starling City. I had never seen him drive that way. He ran three red lights and nearly collided with two other vehicles at two separate turns. Soon, we were at the Glades.

"Why are you driving so dangerously fast, Dad?" I asked. I was worried and nervous for our safety.

"Felicity and Emily are in trouble," he replied.

"Here at the Glades?" I asked again.

"Yes." I knew what that meant. Dad had always told me the Glades spelled trouble, especially at night. We never drove through this part of town unless it was absolutely necessary. And in the few times we did since I was a toddler, my dad and mom had always instructed me to keep my doors locked and stay inside the car. When I realized what we were doing in the Glades that night, I became worried and nervous for Felicity and Emily's safety.

"Son, when we get there, I want you to stay inside the car. Lock the doors. I'm just gonna go over to Felicity's car and get them. They'll just hitch a ride with us, and I'll have Wheeler's pick up their car in the morning. You understand?"

"Yes, Dad," I answered.

As Dad drove, he called Mr. Diggle again. "Where are you, Dig?"

"I'm at the bridge. Just about to turn left into Maple Street," Diggle answered.

"Good. You're right behind us. Thanks for doing this on Christmas Eve. I just… I just feel like I'll need your help, you know… in case something goes wrong."

"No problem," Diggle said. "Lyla's not done with the chicken and pasta anyway. I'm sure I'll be back for dinner in no time."

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."

Dad sped down Maple Street, and as he turned right from Maple to Elm Street, his eyes caught sight of Felicity's blue mini Cooper about thirty meters away from the corner. As we got closer, we were shocked and sickened by what we saw. Felicity was sprawled all over the hood of her car with a man in black leather get-up pinning her down with his body. The man had her neck on a choke-hold with his left hand as he ripped her blouse with his right hand sending a couple of buttons flying in the air.

My dad stepped on the brake and the car came to a screeching halt. "Stephen, stay in the car and lock the doors!"

"Dad!" I yelled as he unfastened his seatbelt and bolted out of the car in a flash. His adrenaline must have been pumping, and the blood in his veins flushed his skin red to the face. I saw him run towards Felicity as the man started to drag her from the car to the sidewalk that led to a dark alley.

The man didn't see what was coming. Dad grabbed him from behind and punched his right jaw. This sent the man crashing down on the pavement, freeing Felicity, who, in weariness and fear slumped back down on the hood of the car. The man tried to get back on his feet, but just as he was trying to get up from kneeling position, my dad punched him again on the face and kicked him in the stomach. The man writhed in pain and growled.

I saw another man come out of the car. He was about to attack my dad, so I screamed, "Dad, look out behind you!" But it was too late. Before Dad could even face the second villain, the man hit him hard on his right side. My dad cringed. He tried to fight back with a blow to the man's jaw, but the man ducked. Clearly, this second guy was more experienced in a fist fight. He punched my dad in the face and again in the stomach. My dad was still on his feet, but I could see he was in pain.

The first guy was starting to get his bearings back and had managed to stand up. The second guy yelled, "Do something, Jake! We gotta get outta here!" His friend got the hint. As my dad bravely fought off the second guy, the other one took out a knife from his pocket, grabbed Felicity's limp body by the neck, and stabbed her upper left abdomen.

"Felicity! No!" I cried.

When Dad heard me cry out her name in terror, he knew something really bad had happened. He turned to look at her and he saw the first guy thrust a blade into her body. "No!" he cried out. He didn't have to break free from the clutches of the second attacker because both men started to run away.

Just then, Diggle's car came to a screeching stop, just beside Felicity's mini Cooper. He was just in time to stop the guys from getting away. He punched the guy who stabbed Felicity straight in the face, so hard that the guy was instantly knocked down to the pavement, unconscious. The other guy put up a fight, but was also put down with a knee kick to the groin and an upper cut to the jaw. Seeing that Diggle had put both men down, I unlocked the car and got out. I ran towards them, wanting to help out.

Meanwhile, my dad rushed to Felicity and touched her face. "Felicity, talk to me," he cried.

"O—Oliver?" Felicity spoke with a voice hardly audible.

"I'm here, baby, please stay awake," Dad told her. He looked at her face, pale and sweaty. Then he looked at her stab wound. She was bleeding profusely. He put his hand over the injury and applied pressure.

"Oww…" Felicity couldn't even scream in pain. She was too weak.

"I'm sorry this hurts, but I have to put pressure to stop the bleeding," Dad explained.

"Diggle!" my dad cried out for help. Diggle rushed to his side just as soon as he had tied up the two men who were lying unconscious on the ground. When he saw Felicity and her stab wound, his face became stern and worried. He ran to his car to get a first aid kit.

Diggle's experience as former Special Forces had included medical training. Dad and I watched as he used medical plasters to temporary hold Felicity's gaping wound. As he worked, she moaned and groaned and writhed in pain. She was mumbling things we couldn't understand. Dad had to hold down her wrists so that Diggle could finish what he had to do. Diggle then covered the wound with some gauze and tightly plastered it closed. Then, he took her pulse.

"Oliver, she's too pale. Her breathing is rapid, her pulse is rapid, and I'm guessing her blood pressure is low," Diggle told my dad. "She's going into hypovolemic shock. You've got to get her to the hospital. Now!"

"Okay," Dad said. "What about-"

"I'll take care of it. I've already called the police. Captain Lance is coming. Go! I'll call Starling General's E.R. to let them know you're coming," Diggle said.

"Stephen, get Emily out of the car and bring her to our car. Quickly!" Dad ordered.

Dad carried Felicity and put her down beside the driver's seat. Emily and I put on our seatbelts at the back seats. We sped off to the hospital in no time.

When we got to the emergency driveway, doctors and nurses of the trauma unit were already waiting at the door with a stretcher. They quickly wheeled her in as Dad filled them in with the details of what happened.

"She's lost so much blood. Please hurry!" Dad told the doctor in-charge.

"We're going to do everything we can, Mr. Queen," the doctor promised. "Now let us do our job."

Soon, they had Felicity hooked up to the monitors and I could hear the beeping of the machines. Dad and I started to walk away, in the direction of the waiting room. We had begun to feel some relief seeing that she was getting the best medical attention.

Suddenly, the beeping of the monitors changed into a loud continuous sound. Dad turned around to see what was wrong. He gasped as he heard the doctor say, "She's flat-lining!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this is the climax of the entire story. I hope you don't hate me for how things have turned out, and I hope you stick with this to find out how the external and internal conflicts are resolved. Happily ever after is just around the corner.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Slight crime-related violence in this chapter.


	19. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity survives but remains unconscious in the hospital. Things happen while the blonde beauty is sleeping... and after.

Emily:

"What's your name, little angel?" the kind-hearted nurse with wide-rimmed glasses asked me. She was the one who took me from Oliver and Stephen as soon as we came into the ER. She had kept me busy in the waiting room with some children's books and toys.

"My name's Emily. Emily Smoak," I replied.

"You have a beautiful name. It suits your beautiful face," she remarked.

"You should see my mommy. She's beautiful, too."

The nurse laughed. "I'm sure she is."

"Is she gonna be okay?" I asked.

"I sure hope so," the nurse replied. "The doctors and other nurses are doing everything they can to make sure of that."

"Is she gonna die?" I asked again. I couldn't help but ask that question. After what we had just gone through, after what I had seen my mom go through, I was so frightened she wasn't going to make it. There was so much blood coming out of her left side. Everyone in the ER was moving frantically just to get her stabilized.

"Oh, sweetie, don't exactly know to answer your question, but-"

"She's not gonna die," a big man's voice cut in. I looked up and saw Oliver and Stephen. I leapt from my chair and ran to hug them both. Oliver thanked the nurse for keeping me company, and then she left the waiting room.

"Emily, you're mom's alive," Oliver told me. I was relieved. He picked me up and carried me.

"Where is Mommy?" I asked him.

"She's sleeping. In her room. Come on, let's go see her," he said.

Stephen:

The three of us left the waiting room and got on the elevator. When the elevator dinged and the door opened, we stepped out on the floor where a sign read "Intensive Care Unit." Dad brought us to Felicity's room, which was like a private suite in the ICU.

Felicity lay on the hospital bed with tubes connected to her body. She had one in her side and another in her mouth. There was another tube coming from underneath her, and I guessed it was for her urine.

"Dad," I asked, "what are the tubes for?"

"That one in her mouth connects her to the machine that helps her breathe. The other one on her left side is the drain for her injury, which the doctors had to operate on," Dad answered.

"I want to go inside," Emily said.

"I'm not sure the doctors will let you, Emily. They have rules about children in this place," Dad explained.

"She can go right in with you, Mr. Queen. She's her mother. We can bend the rules in the ICU suite a little," said an Asian-looking lady doctor who came up to us and smiled. "Hello, I'm Dr. Wong. Let's go inside. I'll explain everything to you."

We went inside Felicity's room together. She looked so peaceful. The only sound you could hear was the steady beeping of the monitors, which was a good sign. That meant that her condition was stable.

"Her vitals are stable," Dr. Wong began to explain. "But she is still unconscious. Don't worry, it's not a coma. However, I have to tell you frankly that she is still in critical condition. Direct, penetrating injury to the spleen is a very rare condition because the rib cage protects this organ. Usually vehicular accidents are the common causes of a ruptured spleen. But in Felicity's case, the knife used to stab her left side penetrated in between two ribs and ruptured her spleen, which resulted in a large amount of blood leaking into her abdominal cavity. We had to operate to stop the bleeding, but when we opened her up, we saw the extent of the damage. More than 25% of the organ was damaged by the blunt-edged blade, so we decided to remove her spleen altogether to save her life. We won't know exactly the extent of the damage and how her other organs are affected, so the next forty-eight hours are critical."

"I understand," my dad responded. "What will it be like for her? You know… without a spleen?"

"The spleen is not essential to sustain life, if that's what you're asking. A lot of people have survived and lived normal lives without it. It's like having just one kidney, or living without a gall bladder. But because the spleen is an organ responsible for helping the body's immune system by destroying bacteria and other foreign substances, and by producing antibodies, you should convince her to consider regular immunizations to prevent infections like pneumonia," Dr. Wong explained.

"When will she wake up?" my dad asked again.

"Anytime in the next forty-eight hours. Waking up is a good sign, so let's keep our hopes up and pray she does… soon. Any more questions, Mr. Queen?"

"That's all for now, doctor. Thank you very much."

Just as Dr. Wong left the room, Aunt Thea walked in. "Hey… I came as soon as I got your message," she said, giving my dad a tight hug. "I'm so sorry this happened."

We all sat down on the sofa inside the ICU suite, and my dad began to tell the entire story to his sister. I watched her face change from one expression to another. First it was fright, then shock, then anger, and then pity. When dad was done telling her everything, including what the doctor had said, Aunt Thea was in tears.

She stood up and walked over to Felicity. She took Felicity's hand in hers and said, "Ollie, what would you have done if she hadn't made it out of the Glades alive?"

"I don't know," my dad replied. He got up and stood beside Aunt Thea, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"It's like she's just sleeping," Aunt Thea remarked.

"Yeah," Dad said with a nod, a smile forming on his lips. "And she's beautiful even when she's sleeping, isn't she?"

Aunt Thea just smiled. "Is there anything I can do to help, besides babysitting those two?" she asked as she looked in our direction. Emily and I were on the sofa. Emily had fallen asleep on my lap while Dad was telling Aunt Thea the story.

"Yes, there is," Dad replied. "Could you please get in touch with Felicity's parents in Vegas? Arrange for the QC jet to bring them here in the morning. They need to be here."

"Sure thing. I'll take care of everything," Aunt Thea assured him. "I'll take the kids home with me now. We'll be back in the morning. You take it easy." Aunt Thea picked up a black knapsack from the floor beside the sofa and handed it to my dad. "Here, take this. I packed some things for you. I thought you wouldn't want to leave her tonight."

My dad took the knapsack, and pulled his sister in for a hug. "Thanks, Speedy. I really appreciate this."

Aunt Thea picked up Emily and carried her in front of her chest. Emily's arms and legs hung loosely as her head rested on Aunt Thea's right shoulder. I picked up the rest of our stuff and followed her to the door.

"Good night, Dad," I said.

"Good night, Stephen, and thank you for being the brave young man I needed you to be tonight. And 'Happy Birthday,' buddy!"

I ran back to him and hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you, Dad," I said. "Don't ever let her go again."

As I stepped out of the room to catch up with Aunt Thea and Emily, I looked through the glass window and saw my dad bending over to kiss Felicity on the forehead. He did love her very much.

Emily:

When I woke up the next morning, I was very surprised. First, I was surprised to find myself in the Queen mansion again. I had slept on a very big and comfy bed with a white canopy. And when I sat up, I was even more surprised to see my grandparents in the room with me. "Grandma! Grandpa!" I called out happily.

"Good morning, angel! And Merry Christmas!" my grandfather said.

"Merry Christmas!" I shrieked joyfully.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yup!" I said.

"No bad dreams?" my grandmother asked.

"Nope!" I answered.

My grandparents looked at each other. They were relieved that I had slept soundly through the night after all the terrible things I had seen and been through. They told me that Oliver and Thea had arranged for them to fly over from Vegas to see Mom in the hospital, and that they had just arrived in the mansion an hour ago to freshen up. They also told me that they're taking me with them to the hospital after breakfast, and that Mr. Diggle will be driving us there.

"You better get out of bed, little angel. We gotta get going! Grandma will fix you up," Grandpa said.

After breakfast, Mr. Diggle drove us to the hospital. As soon as we entered Mom's room, my grandma started to cry. She stood by Mom's bed and sniffed. "My baby girl… my poor baby girl," she sobbed.

My grandfather approached Oliver, who had been awakened by my grandmother's crying. He was lying down on the sofa in the ICU suite with his arms across his chest when we came in. I sat down on a chair across the two men who had started talking.

"Good morning, Oliver… and Merry Christmas," Grandpa greeted. "We didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep. You must be very tired after such a grueling night."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Edward. What time did you arrive in Starling?" Oliver asked.

"Almost 7:00. Mr. Diggle brought us to your mansion to freshen up and get Emily ready, and then we came here straight after breakfast," Grandpa answered.

"That's good," Oliver said. "She's stable now," he told Grandpa as he looked at my mom. "The doctors had to operate on her and remove her ruptured spleen."

"Yes, your sister already told us everything over breakfast. You don't have to retell the story, if you don't want to. It must be very hard for you," Grandpa said.

"Mm-hmm… I couldn't sleep straight all night. I mean, I tried to sleep, but after just a few minutes, I could still see images of what happened in the Glades," Oliver said.

"What happened in the Glades?" Grandpa asked. I found that odd, considering Aunt Thea had already told the story earlier this morning. I guess he was trying to help Oliver get the difficult stuff out of his chest.

"She got lost because of a stupid detour, Edward. A detour! When I got to her, that monster was on top of her. He was… he was going to…" My grandpa put a hand on Oliver's shoulder and squeezed. And then Oliver continued. "I thought I had stopped the guy just in time, but I didn't see the other guy who jumped me from behind. I couldn't stop two of them at the same time. I felt so helpless! The other guy was beating me up when Felicity was stabbed. I… I just… I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop that man from stabbing her!" Oliver slammed his fist on the coffee table, which totally startled me and my grandma.

My grandpa moved closer to Oliver and tapped him on the back. "You did your best, Oliver. None of this is your fault. If you and Mr. Diggle hadn't come to her rescue, who knows what could have happened to my daughter… and my granddaughter. We owe you their lives. Please… stop blaming yourself," Grandpa spoke in the kindest and most compassionate way.

By this time, Oliver was already crying. His elbows were on his knees, and his forehead was nesting on his palms. His tears were dripping straight to the floor, creating a small pool of sadness there.

Grandma came and sat beside Oliver on the other side of the sofa. To our surprise, she opened her purse, pulled out some tissue, and offered it to him. As he took the tissue from her hand, she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving my Felicity and for protecting Emily." She started to cry, too. "I'm terribly sorry, Oliver Queen. I was so wrong about you. I thought you were still that billionaire brat I had read about in the tabloids. Now all I can see is a hero, a brave, honorable man who is willing to risk his life for the woman he loves. Call me melodramatic, but hey, what can I say? This is more than romantic. It's true love!"

She wiped her tears with tissue and began to chuckle. Grandpa and Oliver began to chuckle, too.

"My wife and I have been talking during the flight. Actually, we've starting really talking about you and our daughter ever since your short visit to Vegas," Grandpa began to speak to Oliver again. "I want you to know that Donna and I have decided… that if… if you ever get to the point when you know for sure that you want a life with Felicity… you do have our blessing."

Oliver's eyes widened and the shadow of sadness on his face was replaced by a grateful smile. "I don't know what to say… except… thank you. Thank you for your trust. I won't disappoint you. I give you my word," Oliver said as he looked at my grandfather. "I want you to know that I love Felicity. And I will never hurt your daughter, not intentionally. I will do everything I can to protect her, provide her needs, and see her soar above her dreams."

He looked at my grandma and said, "She's very special, Donna, our Felicity. She's beautiful and strong, focused and wise. Beautiful and strong – she gets that from you. Focused and wise – she gets that from her father."

With that, Grandma embraced Oliver and said with glee, "I'm going to have a son! A handsome son!"

"Donna!" Grandpa exclaimed.

"What?" Grandma responded. "I know he hasn't proposed yet, but-"

"Give the young man some space, honey," Grandpa grunted.

Oliver just smiled. He must have found my grandmother funny. "It's perfectly fine, Edward. Don't worry about it. In fact, Donna seems to have given me an idea."

"Really?" Grandma said with curiosity.

"Yes. How would you like to accompany me to the jewelry store? Help me pick out the perfect ring." Oliver said to my grandma.

"I'd be more than delighted! In fact, I'm ecstatic right now I could go ballistic and bounce off every surface of this very expensive-looking hospital room!" Grandma replied.

"Are you sure, Oliver?" Grandpa asked.

"I'm sure. I've never been so sure. I almost lost her, Edward. I've come to realize that life is precious. I can't wait any longer. The moment she wakes up, I'm going to ask her to marry me," Oliver explained.

I really liked the sound of that last part when Oliver said he was going to marry my mom. So I jumped out of my chair, ran to him, and threw my arms around his neck. "Marry her! Marry her!" I cheered.

"Yes, I will, Emily. You like that, don't you?" he said.

"You three go on and do what you have to do," Grandpa said. "I can stay here and watch her, in case, you know, she wakes up."

Oliver, Grandma, and I spent the rest of the morning hopping from one jewelry store to another. It was Christmas day, but most of the shops in the malls were open. My grandmother was thrilled with engagement ring shopping! It's like she had won the state lottery. When we finally found the perfect ring, Oliver didn't hesitate, even if it was probably worth more than everything we had in our apartment. My grandmother's eyes were ready to pop out when the sales clerk had pronounced the price. We went home to the mansion happy, excited, and satisfied.

By the time we got there, Thea and Stephen were gone. And so was Mrs. Queen. Lucia told us that they had gone to the hospital to visit Felicity. Oliver frowned a bit. He decided to shower before going back to the hospital. He must have been stalling, not wanting to run into his mother at the hospital. Grandmother and I went to my bedroom to rest for the afternoon.

Stephen:

When we arrived at the hospital, there was a stranger in Felicity's room. The older gentleman introduced himself to me and my grandmother as Edward Smoak, Felicity's father. My grandmother and I had missed the Smoaks earlier at the mansion. They had already left by the time we came down for breakfast. Mr. Smoak greeted us a "Merry Christmas" and thanked Grandma for the hospitality of the Queen family. Grandma courteously accepted his expression of gratitude.

"If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Queen, I think I'm gonna go down to the cafeteria to grab a late lunch," Mr. Smoak said.

"Oh, sure, go right ahead, Mr. Smoak," Aunt Thea said. "We can watch Felicity while you're gone."

Mr. Smoak left the room. I settled on the sofa and started to play games on my tablet. Grandma and Aunt Thea walked over to Felicity's bedside.

"She's a fighter," Aunt Thea remarked. "She's gonna pull through. I'm sure of it."

"I think you're right, Thea. She is a strong-willed young woman," Grandma agreed. "Other than you, she's the only other woman who has ever dared to cross me. And for that, I give her credit."

"Mom, be nice," Aunt Thea said.

"I am being nice," Grandma replied.

"So, you like her now, huh?" Aunt Thea teased.

Grandma kept silent and stared at Felicity's face. Then she remarked, "I never thought your brother would fall for a blonde. Both girls she got pregnant were brunettes." She paused. "But then again, all these years I could never really figure out your brother. What do you think he sees in her?" she asked Aunt Thea.

"It's not very hard to like Felicity, Mom. If you gave her a chance, you would have seen it for yourself by now. She's witty and funny and… She's the perfect girl for Ollie, Mom. How can you deny it?"

Grandma remained stoic.

"Ollie has changed so much… for the better… ever since Felicity came into his life. She made him smile again. She made him live again. You of all people should see that. You're his mother," Aunt Thea said.

Just then, my dad walked into the room. "Hey, Merry Christmas to you both," he said.

Both women turned around and saw him at the door. He put down his knapsack on the floor. He was about to sit beside me on the sofa when Aunt Thea said, "Merry Christmas, too, Ollie! Come over here."

"What's up?" he asked her once he was standing near the foot of the bed.

"Mom has something to tell you," Aunt Thea said. "I'm just gonna step outside for a while and answer Roy's text."

Obviously, Aunt Thea was setting them up to talk. She raised her eyebrows twice, looking at her mom, and then looking at her brother. And then she left.

Dad crossed his arms in front of his chest, and shifted his weight from one leg to another. "You had something to say, Mom?"

Grandma wasn't sure what Aunt Thea wanted her to say to my dad. So she started some small talk. "What do the doctors say?"

"Well, they say the first forty-eight hours are critical, to know for sure the extent of the damage caused by the ruptured spleen. She still has difficulty breathing on her own because he left lung was affected, so she's still connected to the ventilator. They say it's important that she wakes up soon."

"Has she?" Grandma asked.

"Not yet."

"Sleeping beauty…" Grandma whispered.

"What's that?" Dad asked.

"Nothing. I was just… admiring how beautiful she is, even if she's lying there, pale and limp. I can see why you fell for her."

"It's not just outward appearances, Mother. Felicity is more than that."

"I know. You've told me how remarkable she is. Thea says it too."

"And one day, if you'll just give her a chance, you'll end up saying it too," Dad remarked tersely.

Grandma shifted her gaze from Felicity to my dad. Their eyes locked onto each other's. I saw it in their eyes – the longing, the desire to be understood. They had missed each other so much because they had been too proud to talk things through all this time.

"You really do love her, Ollie, don't you?" Grandma asked, this time, sincerely.

"Yes, Mother, I do," Dad replied. "And when she wakes up, I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Tears welled up in my grandmother's eyes. She walked closer to her son and touched his arm. "Go ahead and ask her," she said to him as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. "How could I not learn to love the woman who has learned to love my son in ways I never could?"

Dad uncrossed his arms and embraced his mother. That was a sight to see! I wished I had a camera to capture that moment. Before they pulled back, he whispered in her ear, "Merry Christmas, Mom."

Just then, a doctor came in with a nurse and a resident to do the rounds. They talked with my dad and grandma about the developments in Felicity's condition. I overheard the doctor saying that because her vitals were strong and her oxygen saturation levels are now normal, they were going to take her off the ventilator. They just wished she would wake up soon, so that they could know for sure how her treatments would proceed, and whether or not she still had symptoms that needed attention.

Just before supper time, after Aunt Thea and Grandma had left, a nurse and an aide came in to remove the ventilator and the drain on her side. For a while, Dad and I had to step outside because they needed to change her beddings and her hospital gown. They cleaned her up, combed her hair, and then they called us back in. My dad thanked them, greeted them a "Merry Christmas," and they left.

As I sat on the sofa and played games on my tablet, Dad took a chair and sat down beside Felicity.

"You are so beautiful," I heard him say to her. I just smiled and continued playing.

"Everyone's waiting for you to wake up. We all miss your babbling." He chuckled a bit, as he took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Your parents are here in Starling. They brought good news, you know. They gave me their blessing. Even your mom is now okay about me marrying you. They'll be back in the morning." He kissed each of her fingers.

"My mother came to see you. Can you believe it? And she, too, gave us her blessing." He rubbed his stubble against her soft palm. "All you need to do is wake up. Please, wake up. Christmas Day is almost over."

"I know you can hear me, baby," Dad said softly as he put her hand down. He started to rub her arm.

"What else can we talk about? Oh, right! Today your mother helped me pick out the perfect ring for you." He brought out the little velvet box from his pocket and opened it. "Here it is. See? I know you'll love it."

Dad rolled the ring back and forth like a tiny wheel between his thumb and index finger. He was so absorbed in the sparkling beauty of the diamond that sat like a regal queen on top of the golden band, that he didn't notice her heartbeat spiking and the monitor beeping every now and then. He also didn't notice that her eyelids began to twitch. He was oblivious to his surroundings that he didn't even hear Mr. Diggle come in and sit with me on the couch, not wanting to disturb his moment with Felicity.

He picked up her hand again and spoke, with a mild grin on his face. "I think… I'd better practice my speech for when you wake up. So here goes…" he said.

"Last night, when I saw how those men were trying to hurt you, something inside me burned. I didn't think. I didn't feel. I just ran. I ran towards you. There was no choice to make. From the moment I met you, I have always been drawn to you. You became my best friend, and then you agreed to be my girl. I've done what you've asked of me, you know. I let you go, and I did the right thing. Now it's fixed and I'm free. And after last night, when I thought I'd lose you forever – I've decided that I'm not willing to let you go a second time. I love you with all my heart and my soul, Felicity Megan Smoak. And if you'll have me, I would very much want you to be my wife. So… will you marry me?"

Dad paused, as he practiced sliding the ring into her finger. He smiled and sighed, looking at the ring on her hand as it glistened in the light. He lifted her hand and kissed the finger where the ring was, and then he said, "How's that for a proposal?"

"Nice…" a faint voice got his attention. Dad stood, bent over, and looked at Felicity's face as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "And the answer is yes," she said softly, a smile beginning to form on her face.

Dad smiled back at her, showing his pearly white teeth. "Merry Christmas," he whispered as he stroked her blonde locks. "Merry Christmas," she greeted back.

My dad couldn't hold back any longer. His lips landed on hers, and the passionate kiss lasted until the monitor beeped, indicating a change in her oxygen levels. Realizing that Felicity needed some air, Dad pulled back.

Mr. Diggle chuckled as he cleared his throat. "Merry Christmas, Oliver! You finally did it! Congratulations, you two!"

Emily:

Grandma, Grandpa, and I went back to the hospital the next morning. Oliver called us last night telling us that Mom had awakened and was anxious to see us. He also told my grandparents about how the proposal went. They were both so very happy.

We offered to come early, after breakfast, so that he could go home and rest for a while. He'd been in the hospital since the afternoon of the previous day, Christmas Day. When we arrived, he was asleep on the sofa, but my mom was awake, watching news on TV without sounds, her glasses back on her pretty face.

"Mommy!" My grandma lifted me up to sit on the side of her hospital bed. "Oh sweetie, Mommy loves you!" I bent forward and kissed her on the lips, trying to hug her with my little arms.

"Ouch! Mom said as she flinched.

"Sorry," I said. I didn't realize my hand had been on her wound.

"I'm okay, Ems, just a little sore," she said.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Grandma asked my mom.

"Oh, I've been better. The doctor came late last night and told me that I'm going to be just fine. I'll just be needing some vaccines every now and then to protect me from possible infections, now that I'm officially spleen-less," Mom said. She definitely got her winsome smile back.

For the second time, Oliver woke up because of our noise. Embarrassed, my grandpa said, "Good morning, Oliver. And once again, we apologize for disturbing your sleep."

Oliver smiled and stretched his arms. "Good morning," he greeted us. He got up and walked over to the other side of Mom's bed.

"Good morning, beautiful!" he greeted my mom and then kissed her on the forehead. Before he could pull back, Mom cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips. "Good morning, handsome… and Happy Birthday!" she greeted back.

"Oh, it's your birthday? This is wonderful!" Grandma remarked. "You have gotten what is perhaps the best Christmas and birthday present ever. You have the love of your life back!"

"I sure have!" Oliver replied. He took my mom's hand and squeezed it tight.

We were all very happy. Mom lifted her hand and showed off her ring. We joked around and teased about how Oliver's "proposal" had been just a dry-run for him, but my mom seriously took it for the real thing when she said "yes."

The happiness inside the room was short-lived, however. We heard a knock on the door and were all unpleasantly stunned when we saw who it was.

"Well… if it isn't Ray Palmer…" Grandma said in disgust, putting both hands on her hips.

I looked at my mom and then I looked at Oliver. They couldn't speak. They didn't know how to react.

"What are you doing here, Ray? Haven't you done enough?" It was my grandfather that finally spoke.

"I wanted to say Merry Christmas, but I guess, you all would think I wasn't sincere, so I'll just politely say Good Morning," Mr. Palmer responded. "I heard about what happened to Felicity on the news. Whether you folks believe me or not, I just wanted to see how she's doing."

Oliver was looking straight into Mr. Palmer's eyes, trying to decide whether he should believe the guy or not. Finally, when no one else spoke, he said, "Come inside. But don't come any closer." Oliver met Mr. Palmer halfway across the room.

"It's good to see she's awake. It looks like she's feeling better, so I won't stay long. I don't want to intrude on this family thing you've got going," Mr. Palmer said.

"You already are," Grandma cut in, but he ignored her.

"Felicity, uhm… I just wanted to say 'thank you' for dropping the assault charges. But I also wanted to thank you for filing them in the first place. That jolted me, you know… being the arrogant idiot that I am. Someone finally stood up to me. I… I would like to apologize for the hell that I've put you through all these years. I know you've suffered a lot because of me and… I'm very, very sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday… all of you." It felt strange, but I sensed that everyone in the room started to notice the sincerity in the man's voice and words.

"Queen," he addressed Oliver, as he handed him a brown file envelope. "You'll find everything Felicity and Emily will need in there. I had my lawyer draft the papers waiving my rights to legal and physical custody of my child… but I did name her as one of the heirs to my estate in another document. It's in there too. Oh, and the stocks I purchased from some of your investors… I've transferred ownership to Felicity. She can earn a spot in QC's Board if she wants it. I'm walking away from your lives for good, but I just wanted the future of mother and daughter covered. It's the least I can do after everything that's happened."

Oliver was flabbergasted, but pleased. He didn't say a word. He only extended his hand, which Palmer took. They gripped each other's hand firmly and sealed their truce with a handshake.

"Thank you," Palmer said to Oliver. "I know you'll take care of the girls."

Just as Palmer turned towards the door to leave, he looked back at Felicity and said, "Oh, and Felicity… the counseling is actually doing me some good. Thank you for believing I can change for the better." He started to walk away.

"Ray!" my mom called out. Palmer stopped and bowed his head. "I forgive you!" she said. Palmer didn't look back. He just nodded his head and walked down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't hate Moira Queen and Ray Palmer completely in the show, hence, their I wrote this story with both of them as dynamic characters capable of transformation in the end. Isabel Rochev is another story. So what did you think?
> 
> One final chapter and then the epilogue. Olicity wedding coming right up!


	20. Of Park Benches and Rose Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity finds out what exactly happened when Oliver visited the Hawkes. Wedding preps are underway, and then... the most awaited day arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the words and music of Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years." It's just really one of my favorites in recent years. (And I don't know about you, but I really love the idea of a singing Emily Bett Rickards, as I did read somewhere that she had taken singing lessons in the past.)

Emily:

So, we're almost done with our story, Stephen. The only thing left to tell is how my mom and your dad tied the knot.

Stephen:

You're right, Ems. I can still smell the roses. That was the most delightful, most wonderful day in our lives, don't you think so?

Emily:

Uhm… maybe not. I'm still voting for the day the twins arrived.

Stephen:

Hey, hold on! You're spoiling things!

Emily:

Oops… Sorry. Didn't mean to. I guess I'm just excited.

Stephen:

Emily, I have an idea. Why don't we let our parents join us in telling the story for our last two chapters? It would be nice for our readers to know what they really thought and felt.

Emily:

Great idea! Four point of views in each chapter. Mom! Dad! We need your help.

They're coming… Here goes… Five, four, three, two, one…

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Felicity:

It was already February, and the wedding was in two months. I had been healing well since the incident at the Glades last December. While most couples spend six months to a year planning their weddings, Oliver insisted on taking short cuts. He said he wasn't willing to wait any longer. Well, money wasn't a problem for him, so I thought, why not? I had only one condition, and that was that he had to hire professional wedding planners to help me out.

That Friday morning, I was busy finalizing our guest list. I couldn't believe how many people the Queen family were related to and connected to. We had only twenty guests from my side of the family, but Moira had planned to invite one hundred thirty-two guests more than the fifty that Oliver had originally written on his own list. Oliver and I had argued over this ballooning head count three times over, but I finally conceded when his mother promised she would make sure the press were not invited and there would be no reporters covering our wedding. I figured if she could keep her end of the bargain, having a little over two hundred wedding guests wouldn't hurt.

As I was mulling over the names on our guest list, I noticed that two very important people were missing. No, three. I looked out the window and reminisced the day Oliver told me what happened about their trip to Central City.

It had been one week after I had come home from the hospital after the stabbing at the Glades. Oliver was helping me fix the fried chicken and fries dinner that I owed Stephen on the night of his birthday. I had insisted on having them over and cooking dinner, but Oliver only agreed to it if I let him help out. He was concerned that I'd overwork myself when I was still not well enough. I agreed to his condition, because my movements were still quite limited. That afternoon, we finished marinating the chicken and cutting up the vegetables for the salad and potatoes for the fries. So we sat down at the kitchen counter to rest a while before we began to cook.

"You haven't told me yet what happened with Sandra and Connor Hawke," I reminded Oliver. "We were supposed to talk about it that night, right?"

"Oh, yeah. You want to talk about it now?" he asked.

"If it's okay with you," I answered.

"Sure," Oliver said. "The first two addresses we went to didn't check out. It was the third house on our list that turned out to be Sandra's. Well, not actually Sandra's. It was her husband Glenn's. He was the one who let us in. We introduced ourselves and told him we were looking for Sandra and Connor Hawke. He immediately recognized my name and smiled. He called Sandra to come down from upstairs, and when she saw me, she couldn't believe her eyes."

"Did she look any different from when you saw her the last time?" I asked curiously.

"Oh yeah," Oliver answered, grinning. "She told me I hadn't changed a bit, except for my stubble. But Sandra? She was about fifty pounds heavier! They told me that she had just given birth. They had been married for the last five years, but this was their very first child, and they said Connor has been very excited about having a baby sister."

"Didn't she feel awkward with you in her house, talking with her husband?"

"At first, I sensed that. But when I went straight to the point and told them why I came to visit, they understood and appreciated it. In front of Sandra's husband, I asked for her forgiveness for what I had done to her and told her that I wasn't going to run away from my responsibility as Connor's father any longer. I promised them both that I would send child support regularly and see to his education."

"Did they ask about child custody?"

"I was the one that brought it up. But there wasn't much trouble. Glenn said he was already in the process of filing for adoption, so that Connor could have his name. I told him I wouldn't get in his way, and that I wouldn't be filing for joint custody or anything. I just asked them to let me see my son regularly to let him come visit us during holidays. It was quite a nice conversation, really. Glenn was a pretty reasonable guy. I knew right then and there that my son Connor was in good hands."

"Did you get to meet your son?"

"Yes. He came home later that evening from basketball training. They introduced me to him. As soon as he heard my name, he said he'd been waiting for me to visit for quite some time now. Sandra had taught him growing up not to hate me. She had told him time and again that it wasn't my fault that he had grown up without a father because I had no knowledge that he even existed. I appreciated Sandra for that. From the moment Connor was old enough to understand, she had prepared him for the day when we would meet each other. And that night, all her efforts paid off."

I reached for Oliver's hand and squeezed it. "You found your son," I said.

"Yeah, I did. That… and the fact that Sandra had forgiven me… there's nothing more liberating," Oliver said.

"I'm proud of you, Oliver Queen," I said as I looked straight into his eyes.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he responded, as he bent forward across the kitchen counter to kiss me on my forehead, then my nose, and then my lips.

Remembering the delightful sensation of that kiss brought my mind back to the guest list. I added Glenn, Sandra, and Connor Holland as guest numbers 203-205.

Oliver:

As for the wedding venue, day and time, I gave Felicity the liberty to choose, and boy, did she put her foot down. No one else was going to tell her when and where she was going to get married. My mother suggested Rev. Olsen's church. Thea suggested the ballroom of the Grand Plaza Hotel. Donna Smoak suggested the grand ballroom at Caesar's – if we ever decided to get married in Vegas – so that she could show off her daughter's wedding to her friends.

But Felicity told me one night over a cup of coffee that she had wanted to get married in the park where we met, near her very own park bench. I told her that this wasn't such a good idea because the park was too public. We would have problems setting up because there won't be enough restrooms for all the guests, and there won't be a kitchen for the caterers to use. Of course, she was disappointed, but I was quick to offer her an alternative. I suggested that we hold the ceremony in the Rose Garden of the Queen estate. I told her that we could have park benches made for the guests to sit on, just like pews in a church, enough for two hundred people.

"We can do that?" she asked in amazement.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Felicity Smoak," I teased. "I'll fly to moon and back for you if I have to," I chortled.

I did have the park benches custom-built. I had the craftsmen copy the original design of the benches in our favorite park. I wanted the Rose Garden to be perfect for the wedding.

Felicity picked the Saturday nearest her birthday in April as our wedding day. It was a good thing Rev. Olsen was available on that day. The Reverend reminded us that we needed to schedule three pre-marital counseling sessions with him prior to the wedding date, and so we blocked off three Sunday afternoons in March for that.

Emily:

For me, the best part of the wedding preparations was going to the couturiers to fit our wedding outfits. We girls had so much fun! Thea was the maid of honor, and Sara Lance and Lyla Diggle were bridesmaids. We all arrived at the bridal shop at the same time for our scheduled fitting. And guess what the color motif of the wedding was? Do I need to even say it?

I had so much fun fitting all the flower girl dresses in different shades of pink. I felt like a princess! I posed endlessly in front of the mirrors of the bridal shop. I pranced around, glided, and pretended to be a ballerina. I felt so cute and pretty!

But I was nothing compared to my mom. When she came out of the dressing room wearing her bridal gown, we all gasped in unison. Mom looked awesome! She was the perfect Queen! I couldn't wait for Oliver to see her, but the grown-ups told me that wasn't allowed. Grooms aren't supposed to see their brides in their wedding gowns before the ceremony starts.

Stephen:

The bachelor's party was planned by none other than Uncle Tommy. That sort of made my Dad nervous, so he asked Mr. Diggle to make sure there wasn't going to be anything dirty or inappropriate. When I overheard Diggle probing Uncle Tommy if he had hired a stripper, I asked my dad, "What's a stripper?"

My dad frowned and said to me, "Uhm… it's… someone that shouldn't be invited in a bachelor's party if the groom really loved his bride.

"Good answer!" said Diggle, as my dad walked over to Uncle Tommy and slapped the back of his head.

I scratched the back of my head, not really understanding what the three of them were talking about.

"Tommy, I want you to plan the bachelor's party carefully, with my son in mind, coz I plan to bring him along," Dad told him.

"What?!" Uncle Tommy asked in disbelief. "What kind of bachelor's party is that?"

"PG 13," Diggle said, chuckling.

"What pranks can we do if there's a kid around?" Uncle Tommy waved his arms in the air in protest.

"Be creative!" Dad replied. "I know you can do it." And then my dad couldn't stop laughing.

When Uncle Tommy gave up because of too many restrictions, Roy Harper came up with a bright idea. "What about paint ball or laser tag at the arena?"

"Cool! That'd be fun!" I yelled.

"My son likes that," Dad commented. "I can also invite my older son, Connor, and his stepdad Glenn."

"So, which is it, paint ball or laser tag?" Diggle clarified.

"I've got something better, something more exciting," Captain Lance interrupted the discussion. He had just arrived at the restaurant where the guys were planning the bachelor's party. "I can have Sara arrange for us to use the FBI training facility to do something like laser tag, only, we'll be using real guns but shooting blanks. Cops and robbers style. You guys think you can handle that?" he proposed, presenting the men with a challenge.

"I'm in!" said Diggle, the ex-Special Forces guy.

"Me too," I said.

"Isn't that going a bit too far?" Uncle Tommy asked.

"Not if you're a chicken," Roy Harper teased, imitating the foul sound of the fowl. When he saw the frown on Uncle Tommy's face, he quickly took his joke back and said, "Peace, man. I was just kidding."

"Go ahead and arrange it, Dad," my dad said to my grandfather. "It sounds like fun."

And we did have fun. Dad, Connor, and I were on Diggle's team. Roy, Uncle Tommy, and Glenn Holland were on Grandpa Lance's team. After almost an hour of heart-stopping action and adrenaline rush, our team lost by two points.

Emily:

The night before the big day, all the members of the entourage, the relatives and some friends of the bride (which included pianist David Osborne) who had been flown over by the QC jet from Vegas were housed in the Queen mansion. Mrs. Queen had hired additional servants for three days to help with all the cleaning, cooking, and hosting of the guests. The couturiers had also delivered all the gowns, dresses, and tuxedos of the members of the entourage and the bride's and groom's family members that afternoon.

On the wedding day, the caterers, florists, musicians, and wedding planners had been busy setting up, decorating, and coordinating everything the entire morning. Everything had to be ready in time, because my mom had specifically requested that the ceremony be timed such that the groom would be kissing the bride at sunset. That tiny request was driving the wedding planners crazy.

The Rose Garden with the custom-made park benches was ready for the ceremony. The Italian Garden with specially-made canopies, a dance floor, and candle-lit tables was ready for the reception. I wondered if my mom and Stephen's dad were ready.

Stephen:

Rev. Olsen was in position in the gazebo, which served as the altar for the wedding ceremony. My dad and I stood just in front of it. I was his best man, and I had the rings in my pocket. I felt for them, making sure they were still there. That was the first time I had worn a tux, and I stood tall and proud beside my father, Oliver Queen. Uncle Tommy and Diggle, the groomsmen, were also there standing in front with us.

"I wonder what's taking the women so long to get ready," Dad asked Diggle. He was a bit anxious and edgy.

"Relax, man. They're coming," Diggle answered, reassuringly.

"Diggle's right, Ollie. It's not like Felicity's going to change her mind," Uncle Tommy added.

"Yeah, Dad," I said, "I think you're just anxious to see Felicity."

Dad adjusted his bow tie for the nth time and sighed. He looked at his watch again. "If they don't start marching now, we're going to miss the sunset!" he said.

Just then, the leader of the wedding planners gave the string quartet the signal to begin playing. Members of the entourage began to march to the music of Bach's Air on a G String. The bridesmaids looked so pretty. Aunt Thea looked very pretty. And so did Emily. She was so cute as she walked down the aisle, throwing pink, peach, and red petals as she went. And then, the prompter cued the congregation to stand for the entrance of the bride and her parents.

Everyone was surprised that David Osborne wasn't playing the traditional bridal march music. Dad and I were surprised as well, because as far as we knew, that was what was written in the program. Instead, the pianist was playing Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years," and the string quartet joined in. It was another of Felicity's surprises. As soon as the musical introduction was over, we caught sight of the bride at the far end of the aisle, and she started singing:

Heart beats fast, colors and promises

How to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall

But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt

Suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer…

When Felicity got to the first chorus, she and her parents began to walk down the aisle. They walked very slowly. From where I was, I could see her holding her bouquet in one hand and a wireless microphone with her other hand. I turned to look at my dad, and oh, his face was filled with wonder and awe! And why not? His bride was the most beautiful woman on Earth!

Felicity's hair was gathered up, just a few locks and curls flowing down her nape. Two white flowers adorned the right and left side of her head just behind her ears. A thin veil covered her face, while the rest of the material was gathered at the back of her head. She wore a very simple pearl necklace. Her strapless, empire-cut gown bared her upper chest, and Swarovski crystals outlined the heart-shaped bust line that modestly showed off just a little cleavage for a dramatic effect. More crystals were splashed along the empire waist, where the skirt began to flare majestically down to the ground. She looked perfect. Her voice was perfect. Her smile was perfect. The words of the song were just right. I looked at my dad again and saw him singing along softly:

Time stands still, beauty in all she is

I will be brave, I will not let anything take away

What's standing in front of me

Every breath, every hour has come to this

One step closer…

By the time the song was coming to an end, Felicity and her parents were just a few feet in front of us. Now I could see her eyes more clearly. She was holding back tears, hoping she wouldn't break down crying and mess up her song. Dad, on the other hand, had broken down long before she ever could. I saw tears fall from the corner of his eye, and he brushed his tears away with his finger.

And all along I believed I would find you

Time has brought your heart to me

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more…

And then the music faded away, as the Reverend asked, "Who gives this bride away to be married to this man?"

Edward Smoak replied, "I do." He and his wife Donna hugged and kissed their daughter. Mr. Smoak took his daughter's hand and gave it to my dad. He nodded and whispered, "She's yours now." Dad flashed him a big smile.

The Reverend instructed everyone to sit down, and the ceremony proceeded as planned. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in this place on this day to witness the union of two lives in the bonds of matrimony," he began to say.

Felicity:

Oliver led me to the gazebo as the Reverend began to speak. I held on to his strong arms. The heels Thea had picked were way too high than usual for me, and I was nervous that I might trip and stumble. As we reached the last step, I wobbled a bit, but Oliver caught me. "Careful," he whispered. We both smiled. I looked into his bright blue eyes and thought to myself, "What did I ever do to deserve the blessing of this wonderful man?" I still couldn't fathom it.

The Reverend continued his mini sermon. "Ladies and gentlemen, I consider it an honor and privilege to have been asked by this wonderful couple to officiate their wedding and seal their vows. I know them and their history quite well, and I must say, these two have gone through a lot in their young lives. They've both had their hearts broken, but love and forgiveness have mended them. They've both had their fears and regrets, but grace and compassion have replaced them. Their love for each other is a magnificent picture of the unconditional love of our Savior Jesus Christ, who gave His very life on the Cross for undeserving sinners like us, who do not even want the help and deliverance He came to give."

The rest of the ceremony went by smoothly. Soon we were slipping the rings on each other's fingers, and it was time to say our original vows. The Reverend made me go first.

"I, Felicity Megan Smoak, take you, Oliver Jonas Queen to be my one and only husband. I promise to love you with all my heart, respect and honor you with all my mind and strength, be your partner in all your endeavors – be it in building a home and raising our children, or in pursuing your dreams and aspirations to help make our city, our world a better place. From this day forward, my body is yours and yours alone, and I promise to be faithful to you, to work with you in strengthening our marriage, so that any form of separation may not ever be an option for us even when the toughest of toughest times come… because I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."

"I, Oliver Jonas Queen, take you, Felicity Megan Smoak to be my one and only wife. I promise to love you with all my heart and soul, to care for you and protect you even if it may cost my very life. I promise to provide for your needs, the needs of our children and our home. I promise to lead, as an honorable man should, but not in a manner that would crush your spirit or erase your identity… because you – my beautiful and remarkable bride – are truly one of a kind. From this day forward, I am yours and yours alone, and I promise fidelity to you for the rest of my days on Earth. I vow to leave a lasting legacy for our children and our children's children. Know that I will do my utmost, even through the darkest times that we may face, so that nothing and no one can separate us until death calls us home."

Oliver:

When Felicity and I turned around to face the congregation, we both kept ourselves from laughing at the sight. Nearly half of our guests were in tears, even some of the men! Women were wiping their faces with tissue and blowing their noses. Some men were patting the corners of their eyes with their handkerchiefs.

Rev. Olsen began with his pronouncement. "Ladies and gentlemen, by the power vested in me by the state of California, as a minister of the gospel, it is with pride and pleasure that I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Jonas Queen! What God has joined together, let no man separate."

The crowd applauded and cheered so loud that they could hardly hear the Reverend say, "You may now kiss the bride." But I knew my cue, and I certainly didn't want to miss it. I lifted Felicity's veil and looked into her captivating face and enticing eyes. I held her by her elbows and leaned forward for a passionate kiss. I felt her arms wrap around my waist, all the way to my back, so I pulled her in and deepened the kiss, tenderly caressing her back. We were so lost in each other's embrace that we were unable to watch the orange-pink sun set in the horizon.

The congregation had already stopped clapping and cheering, but we were still kissing in front of the Reverend, who tapped at his microphone and prompted the congregation, "Let us all give the bride and groom another round of applause!" With the hand-clapping and cheering came laughter from our loved ones and friends. It was only when the musicians started to play the music for the recessional that Felicity and I came to our senses that there were two hundred people watching the longest wedding kiss they had probably witnessed so far. When we pulled back from each other, our lips were so red, as red as our flushed cheeks. We just laughed off the embarrassment. We were laughing so hard we cancelled the recessional altogether, and cued the master of ceremonies to begin the pictorials.

The reception followed at the Italian Garden. After the toasts and the speeches, the ceremonial cutting of the cake, the bouquet and garter toss, and the showing of our video montage, the dancing began. That was my second cue. I whispered to Felicity, "Let's get out of here." She smiled flirtatiously at me and said, "I'm right behind you."

We walked passed some guests by the buffet table and made it to the lanai at the garden side of the mansion without too many people noticing. Felicity took off her heels and her veil and carried them so that she could better follow my stride. We made it to my bedroom and locked the door.

Felicity dropped her veil and her shoes on the floor and stood in the middle of my room. "So this is Oliver Queen's bedroom. Hmm… I wonder how many girls have been here," she teased.

"Too many," I replied. "But from now on, there'll be only one, and I'm looking at her right now."

"Stop looking. You're making me melt," she said, giggling.

I didn't stop looking. In fact, I looked at her from head to toe and back. My body warmed and began to burn with desire. Strangely though, I didn't feel even a tinge of guilt, and I liked that feeling. In my younger years of fooling around, each time I was with a woman, I was driven by lust. I experienced temporary pleasure, yes, but in the morning I was laden with guilt.

I took one slow step after another, closing the gap between me and my wife. My wife.

"Oliver…" she said nervously, taking one slow step after another backwards to the dresser behind her. "You can't even wait until our honeymoon? Come on, there are two hundred guests downstairs."

"I don't care. You're my wife now. You asked me to keep it together until we're married, remember? And now we are," I said, now standing tall just a few inches away from her slender, fragile form.

Felicity looked up and gazed into my eyes. She then removed the clips holding her hair together. As her hair tumbled down her neck and shoulders, the flowers fell down to the floor. I pulled her close and ran my fingers through her hair, and pressed my lips on the side of her head, breathing in her cherry blossom scent.

I whispered in her ear, "I love you… very much. I promise I'll be gentle."

"Mm-hmm…" She nodded. She put both her hands on my chest and then rested her head and upper body on mine. I could feel her warm breath on my skin as I held her in my embrace. I felt the zipper on the back of her wedding dress and slowly pulled it down. She moaned as I caressed the small of her back.

I closed my eyes and uttered a short prayer, "Thank you, God, for my wife." And then, I felt Felicity sigh as I heard her say, "Amen."

We had waited for this. And it was going to be the longest, most beautiful night of our lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be nice to give Olicity fans and readers something that we might not be seeing in the actual show in the near future (I hope it's not "never" though). I hope this final chapter made you smile somehow. I sure would like to know if it did.
> 
> Epilogue to follow, and then that's it.


	21. Epilogue: The Queen Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity adjust to married life - well, Felicity mostly - and to parenting, all over again. But counting their blessings, the Queen family couldn't be more thankful.

Emily:

Since their wedding day two years ago, Felicity Smoak has no longer been just my mom.

Stephen:

She has become my mom, too. And Oliver Queen has no longer been just my dad.

Emily:

He has become my dad, too! They're our Mom and Dad!

Stephen:

In February of last year, they became Mom and Dad to two more blonde-haired Queens – our baby brother Thomas John Queen, whom we fondly call TJ and whom Dad named after his two best buddies, and our baby sister Olive Rose Queen, whom we fondly call Liv and whom Mom named after the love of her life and the memory of their wedding night, which was the night she suspects the twins were conceived.

Emily:

The day they were born was the happiest day of my life! I was thrilled to finally be a big sister to two adorable tots!

Stephen:

We are now a family. A very happy one. We do everything together. Dad and Mom had agreed to set aside special days to spend time with each of us. Mondays are my days. After school, Dad and I would usually jog at the park and talk about "guy stuff," and then we'd spend the rest of the evening at Big Belly Burger hanging out with Diggle, Uncle Tommy (if he's not on a date with his fiancée, Aunt Sara Lance), and sometimes, Roy Harper (who is now my Aunt Thea's boyfriend). If it's Mom's turn, she and I would usually stay home and spend the entire afternoon after school cooped up in her computer laboratory – for which the security code for entry is known only by her. She'd teach me computer stuff, or help me with homework and projects. She's fantastic! I never get grades lower than A- for schoolwork.

Emily:

Tuesdays are mine. After school, Mom and I would usually stop by the grocery for food and supplies. Young as I am, she's already teaching me how to pick out fresh vegetables and ripe fruits, how to tell if the meats were still good or if the breads were stale. Shopping is always fun when I do it with Mom… especially because I always get to go home with something new – clothes, shoes, hair accessories, books, or toys. Haha! If it's Dad's turn, he's usually teaching me how to ride my bike. Now it is still has training wheels, but he says that as soon as I'm ready, he's gonna take them off and let me ride by myself. Sometimes, when Mom's not looking, he'd take me on a motorcycle joyride all around the huge Queen property… without a helmet. I love the feel of the wind on my face and how my curly blonde hair flies in the air. Dad says it's our little secret, and I promised not to tell. Ooops! Sorry.

Stephen:

Wednesdays belong to TJ, and Thursdays belong to Liv. The twins are just about a year and a half, but they both seem very smart. They take after me, I think. I never thought Dad was the cartoons type of guy, but when it came to the twins, he endured hours and hours of watching Disney Junior and Baby TV on cable, until he learned to enjoy it himself. Sometimes, I laugh when I hear him humming the theme songs of Jake and the Neverland Pirates or the Little Einsteins, especially when he dances around to make TJ or Liv laugh. It's hilarious! When it's Mom's turn to spend time alone with either TJ or Liv, it's all about ABCs, 123s, colors, and shapes. She says she's starting off the twins young, like her dad had done with her. She believes they'll both turn out to be geniuses like her.

Emily:

Fridays? Those days are untouchable! We couldn't make Mom or Dad bend. Not for a movie, or a night out at the mall, not even for a basketball game. That's our parents' alone time. Sometimes they'd go out on a date, have dinner in a nice, expensive restaurant or just in a regular fast-food joint, or they'd go watch a movie or a concert. They're not real picky, as long as they're together. Sometimes they just stroll in our favorite park or sit quietly on her park bench and talk for hours. At other times they just stay home and work out together in the gym, and for some silly reason, they end up getting locked in there all night that they'd skip dinner altogether. It's happened several times… I've lost count! I still can't figure out how that happens. Don't grown-ups have keys or something?!

Oliver:

Park day for our growing family was moved to Saturday when the twins arrived. Stephen and I still play basketball together while Emily and Felicity stay with TJ and Liv in the sandbox or the playground.

I love my life. What more could a man ask for? I have a brilliant, gorgeous wife. I have beautiful, smart kids. I run an ever-expanding company, which I dream of passing on to my children someday, if they want to be involved in it. I am happy… not because I can do whatever I want with my life regardless of how it affects the people around me… but because I am giving more and more of myself to the people I love, sometimes to the point of having to make sacrifices just to give them what's best.

One such sacrifice is coming up. Felicity has been wanting to move out of the mansion ever since the twins were born. She says it's hard for her – for us – to raise our children the way we want to raise them if we are not the king and queen of our home. At first, I had tried to convince her of the many advantages of staying with my side of the family. We had Thea or Grandma Moira to help with babysitting, especially on Friday nights. We had Lucia and the servants to do chores and cook our meals. But still, Felicity has remained firm and consistent with her conviction. And now that she has stopped nagging me about the issue for quite some time, I feel it's about time I reconsider and just give her what she's been asking for. Because when I really thought hard about it, I realized she's been right all along.

Felicity:

Sundays are my favorite days. Church in the morning, and family time in the afternoon. Rev. Olson has gotten Oliver involved in the men's group. Emily finally got her break in the children's choir. The choir director tells me that at age six, she's already showing signs of becoming a really good singer. And who else could she have gotten that talent from? Your guess is as good as mine. Anyways, the director says Emily will soon be doing solos for the choir. I'm so proud of my little angel!

Sunday afternoons, we have family time. We sing songs, play all sorts of games, and do short dramas. My favorite part is storytelling. Oliver and I would take turns reading Bible stories, folk tales, fairy tales, fables, and other stories with lessons to learn from. We end our special time with prayers. We pray for our health, our safety, our loved ones and friends, Dad's and Mom's jobs, the kids' schoolwork, and many other things we could think of. These help keep our faith strong. Oliver likes the way I've passed on what my dad has taught me to our own kids.

Sometimes during the holidays or school breaks, Connor stays with us for a week. All four kids adore him. He's not the typical teenager who gets irritated and annoyed by kids crawling all over him, or riding his back, or messing up his things. He doesn't mind their mess and their noise at all. He says he's used to these things because he's had practice with his own little sister back in Central City. Oliver makes sure he bonds with Connor each time he's with us. Oliver takes him to the office and shows him around. They'd go watch professional basketball or hockey games. I'm so proud of my husband. He's been trying real hard to make up for lost time with Connor.

Oliver:

Business at Queen Consolidated has never been better. With Thea by my side, helping me run the company, I've been able to lead everyone almost as well as my late father had. Hopefully, our brother-and-sister tandem would continue to do wonders, as we try to bring QC a notch higher, not just in terms of profit, but also in terms of charity work and contributing to the betterment of the standard of living in Starling City.

Felicity has stayed on as Senior IT Consultant. Despite the shares in the company given to her by Palmer, she has shown no interest in becoming a member of the Board. And no matter how many times I've tried in the last two years to convince her that she's perfect and ready to be the head of the IT department, she has constantly declined. Her reason is no longer based on her fears of what people might think or say, for no one would dare cross the CEO's wife. Her primary reason is her priority that she is first and foremost my wife and the mother of our children. She says the time will come for her to be more involved in the company when they're older, and when they don't need her running after them all the time.

The problem is… that might not happen in the near future. You see, she's… we're… we're expecting another baby girl in two weeks. I know, I know… there's no one else to blame for this but me. In the beginning, she did blame me. When she found out she was pregnant again, she stayed in our bedroom all day and cried.

That day, Felicity came out of our bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test in her hand. "Look what you've done, Oliver Queen!" she fumed. "The twins are barely ten months old! They haven't even started to walk, and I'm gonna be running after them with a belly the size of a watermelon when they do!" She cried on and off for days and had mood swings that were worse than post-partum blues. I didn't know what to do.

When the Diggle learned about all this, Lyla called me up and suggested that perhaps Felicity was experiencing burnout. "Think about it, Oliver," Lyla said, "It's not easy what she's doing day in and day out. I have just one child, and she drives me crazy sometimes. On top of her work for QC, Felicity has to take care of an ten-year-old boy, a five-year-old girl, and infant twins. And then there's you. Put yourself in her shoes. How do you think she feels now that there's another life growing inside her – which, by the way, is your fault! It's not that she doesn't want this baby, Oliver. I'm sure she loves it. She's over-fatigued, and she probably just needs to be assured that she won't be alone in facing the complicated challenges of marriage and motherhood."

"Where do women get all these? They're so sensitive and insightful," I had thought to myself. I took Lyla's advice. I shipped the twins out to the Diggle home, elbowed Thea into taking charge of Stephen and Emily, and took my wife on a ten-day Caribbean cruise. I gave her my 100% attention and did everything I could to show her how much I appreciated what she does for me and the kids. After that cruise, Felicity was back to her old self again.

When she successfully hurdled the first trimester of morning sickness – which, for her, was more of all-day sickness – she began to glow… up until now. While other pregnant women who approach the last trimester usually double their weight and size, become irritable, and bloat, my Felicity is ever radiant and blooming. In fact, if I'm really honest with myself, I must say that I actually find her more attractive and desirable now than ever before. And if she's up to it, I'd like to try for one more Queen when this one's a year old. I know what you're thinking, but hey, it's my family.

Felicity:

I heard you! But Oliver, honey, I'm not going to argue with you on that. Kids are fun, and you're a fantastic father and husband. If we can have one more shot while I'm still at my prime, I don't see why not!

You folks need to know that it's actually pointless for me to argue and quarrel with Oliver Queen… because in the end, I always win. So why waste my breath and blow my temper, if I could just ask nicely? ...while giving him a rub-down at the end of a long day at the office, or after singing him a song when he's relaxing on the couch with his head on my lap, or when we snuggle up close in the morning light after a wonderful evening of husband-wife intimacy. I know, I know… I've learned a few tricks over the last two years since we tied the knot, but adjusting to married life hasn't exactly been easy for me.

You see, I had been used to making decisions for myself and for my daughter. I had been used to trouble-shooting and solving my own problems. When I married Oliver, things changed. A lot. In the beginning, we bickered over petty things and fought over some major issues. It was hard for me to hear him out because honestly – and I say this to my shame – I've always thought I was the smarter one. But really, each time I insisted that my point of view was the right one, each time I pushed my husband to the limits of his patience, I wasn't really showing how smart I was. I was actually the loser. I've been learning that winning an argument is not really the point. Nurturing our relationship is.

For Oliver, it was easier. He had already been married before, so he had an edge. He had learned so much from his heartaches with Laurel and his grief over her loss that he sort of had this mental list of things he was determined not to do if ever he got married again. That mental list really helped him… helped us. In our relationship, he is the more patient one, the more understanding one, the more thoughtful one. He's really, really sweet, and if I could express exactly what I mean in the form of a compliment, it would be this: that my husband keeps on loving me in spite of all my flaws and imperfections and has, in fact, never stopped courting me to this very day. I am secure in his love, because time and time again, unless it's really important, Oliver chooses me over everything and everyone else.

He chooses me over work. He is mastering the art of delegation and uncovering the many benefits of synergistic teamwork in the office, such that he does not have to go on overtime just to beat deadlines, and especially not on a Friday night!

He chooses me over other women. Everyone in QC knows that their CEO will never be seen alone with another woman in an elevator, in an employee's cubicle, or in a car. He takes me with him to business dinners and business trips, and introduces me as his wife to the people we meet. He has been very careful to avoid those things that had made self-control very hard for him when he was the young playboy that he was. One day, during our honeymoon, he had made a pact with his eyes in my presence that he will not look at anyone anywhere lustfully, and that he will only have eyes for me. Oh, there were a few times when he had almost slipped up, but since he had considered himself accountable to me, I had been able to help him and offer comfort as his wife.

He chooses me over his mother. Moira knows that if ever she and I had differences in opinion, her son would never side with her. Not that he tolerates or condones my mistakes or wrong behavior. What I mean is that, whether or not I'm right, he proves that his loyalty is with me, the woman that he is one with. He doesn't put me down in the presence of my in-laws. And when he and I have a fight, he doesn't try to get them to side with him.

He chooses me over his friends. Yes, he hangs out with Tommy, with Diggle, and sometimes with his father-in-law Captain Lance, but he could always say "no" when he knows I need him. I haven't felt jealous of any of his friends because I know for sure that I am his best friend.

He chooses me over our very own children. He knows I'd do anything for our kids, anything at all. Hey, I'd even attempt the impossible if it meant keeping them safe and giving them the best. But he always reminds me to save some time and energy for myself, especially after that burnout spell I had eight months ago. He insists that I religiously maintain my Friday mornings off, either alone doing what I want to do, or with other girl friends like Lyla and Sara, or with my sister-in-law Thea. Whenever Stephen or Emily disrespect me or talk back at me, he steps in. He tells them in his deep, firm voice, "Look, this woman here is not just your mother. She's my wife, and I don't tolerate tantrums against my wife! If you disrespect her, you answer to me."

He chooses me over his own life. I feel safe and protected because I know that my husband is willing to give his life for me if the situation calls for it. I think the trouble at the Glades is enough proof of that. Laying down one's life is the ultimate test of genuine love.

Stephen:

Life has been good to our family.

Emily:

We have everything I've ever dreamed of and more.

Felicity:

My marriage is not perfect, and my children are far from perfect, but we are very blessed indeed.

Oliver:

I'm sure there will be more troubles up ahead, but the Queens will make it… by faith… with hope… because of love.

****THE END****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end! How did you like the twins?
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who read and followed this story all throughout. Special shout-outs to tdgal1, KK1986, and Xanderman216 for always taking the time to comment and review; as I've said, it means a lot to me. I truly hope that reading this story was not only enjoyable but also inspiring, with some lessons in life as a bonus.
> 
> This epilogue segues into the prologue of the sequel I will be posting very soon. It's called THE QUEENS. I hope you'll be following that one, too? It will pick up five years after this story and will not just be romance and drama; there will be suspense and some mystery as well with the introduction of villains far worse than how Ray and Isabel were here. More of the Arrow cast will be there in addition to Diggle, Thea, and Tommy. Quentin, Sara, and Roy will play key roles. Also, it will feature crossovers with two other favorites TV series of mine - The Flash and Criminal Minds. I hope that interests you. Can't wait to hear from you then!
> 
> Once again... THANKS and KUDOS to you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope Emily and Stephen can get you to click to the next chapter. The succeeding chapters will not be in script form anymore, but I will indicate who is telling the story in each segment of each chapter to avoid confusion since this story is told from multiple POVs. Please, do read on, and drop a line or two to let me know what you're thinking. Thanks!


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